


Sugar and Smoke Rings

by maddning



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Car Sex, College Student Ian Gallagher, Dry Humping, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Famous Mickey Milkovich, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Smut, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher and Mandy Milkovich are Best Friends, Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Making Love, Past Abuse, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Riding, SWEET BOYS, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Top Ian Gallagher, baker mickey milkovich, mickey is insecure, mickey milkovich's tummy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24724075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddning/pseuds/maddning
Summary: Mickey has worked his ass off to become to successful baker that he is today. At nearly 27 years old Mickey is living his dream with his own baking show and thousands of fans that adore him and really Mickey couldn't ask for much more.Except Mickeys got a little bit of a hole in his chest that can't be filled by blueberry cupcakes and corny Netflix comedy specials. Until one day Ian Gallagher walks into his life, or his studio really. All muscles and fiery red hair and he's got this knack for making the famously grumpy Mickey Milkovich smile.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 113
Kudos: 417





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey meets his new costar.

Mickey Milkovich was a lot of things. He was strong willed, most called him hard headed. He was passionate, others envied the passion he carried for the things that were important to him. He was quick witted and smart, most of the time, mostly when it came down to food or classic rock. and he was most definitely outspoken, abrasive by default, even when he didnt want to be it seemed. He was still working around that bit.

Yes. Mickey Milkovich was a lot of things, but to the people that really knew him, self assured was not one of them. Sure, when it came to pies and traditional household recipes flipped on their heads, Mickey was a fucking professional goddamnit. But where Mickey had exceeded with confidence in the kitchen, he had unfortunately lacked everywhere else.

Mickey had a lot to be proud of. He had pulled himself out of the deepest ruts life could throw him in and he climbed to the very top with just a whisk and pure fortitude.  
What had started out for Mickey as just basic instincts of survival had turned into a hobby, and a job that kept him pretty well off. Kept him satisfied for the most part and he rarely found himself complaining. 

Not really having decent parental figures growing up, Mickey had to learn to fend for himself, which is how Mickey ended up in the kitchen every night, trying different combinations of whatever mess they had leftover in the fridge to make something edible for him and his sister Mandy. It turned out he had a bit of a knack for it. Mickey had taken to sweets especially, making birthday cakes when their shithead of a father couldn't even remember how old they were much less the day they were born.

After years of self teaching and binge reading old thrift store cook books, Mickey's knack had scored him a shot at the big leagues. All thanks to Mandy, when she had forced Mickey to make a recipe video that went viral on her instagram the next day. Mickey ended up gaining almost a million followers within the span of a month. He was surprised at how many people genuinely enjoyed watching him fuck around in the kitchen, just having fun with whatever he was making for lunch or desert that day. After months of his videos gaining traction he eventually got an offer to do a cooking show for Buzzfeed which was a surprising hit with the younger generation. 

Mickey had a lot to be proud of and yet whenever he looked in the mirror all he did was huff and grumble and grab at the bit of fat resting on his hips that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. No matter how many crunches and god awful burbees he did, he couldnt seem to shake it. Because Mickey fucking loved food okay, his whole life was trying new recipes and inventing the perfect dish so of course no one was surprised that Mickey was a little soft. 

Maybe it would’nt bother Mickey so much if he had grown up somewhere different, with someone different, then things would be, well, different. If he hadn’t had Terry Milkovich and shitty southside public school boys telling him that he was a fat, ugly, short fucking son-of-a bitch, just about every chance they got then maybe Mickey would have some sense of self worth. And he isnt fucking sensitive, because at least its made him self aware. At least that’s what he’s drilled into his brain over the years.

Because of this so called self awareness Mickey had mostly kept to himself, never confided with anyone his deepest secrets of his love for “pansy” (terry’s words of course) shit like cooking and boys. 

It took 21 years for him to come out, the first person being Mandy about a week after Terry's funeral service which was attended by about 5 people Mickey assumes, he’s not really sure given he wasn’t one of them.  
After one not so unfortunate drug deal gone wrong he had finally felt free to be himself. That's when his climb to the top had really started, when Mickey had sold the house that somehow got left to him, when he used it to pay for culinary school in new york, moving him and Mandy into a pea sized apartment in brooklyn where their separate bedrooms were barely the size of walk in closets and you almost had to walk into the bathroom sideways to get to the toilet. And inside that ugly, grease stained kitchen he became the internets sweetheart.

Mickey worked hard, forcing himself to be creative and work outside of his comfort zone. His hard work payed off 5 years later, where he’s living pretty comfortable. Him and mandy having upgraded to a 2 bedroom apartment (which were closer to the size of living rooms) overlooking central park and a massive kitchen with natural light that still had Mickey drooling every time he walked through the door.

Mickey was glad he had Mandy with him, he spent most of his time convincing himself that she was all he really needed, Mandy and her now long term boyfriend and their long term fucking dog child and their long term plans to get married and move into their own gross little long term home just outside the city and okay maybe he was a little bit bitter, bitter because he felt that he could never have that. Could never be comfortable enough to have that.

The closest thing mickey has gotten to romance was some messy 5 minute fuck in the back of a club on the weekend where he had whatever guy he could find willing enough to have him, pushed up against a bathroom stall. facing away, always facing away, as Mickey fucked into him with no real passion, just the goal to get off and maybe feel a little something other than loneliness for just a moment. and it was always like that. Mickey has thought before that maybe he wouldn’t mind taking it for once, intrigued by the idea because the guys he did always seemed to really enjoy it.

He’d never try it himself though he decided, not even in the privacy of his bedroom with just his hands, he was too scared he might actually like it, of not being able to go back to how things were before he knew that feeling, was absolutely terrified of having to have another man look at his naked body as they fucked him in any manner at all. So he kept away.

\---  
Saturday, August 29th

“Mickey, don’t you look absolutely stunning today,” Josephine said, her spanish accent lacing in with the overly sweet tone of voice and the complete and total lack of personal space as she came from behind and began to gently knead at his shoulders. Slender fingers doing their best to work away his tension.

Mickey was usually greeted by Josey the second he walked into the studio, had grown accustomed to her tactile nature. He relaxed and let himself enjoy it for just a moment, the human contact giving him a rush of endorphins that he didn’t often receive.  
He’s grown a bit of a soft spot for his producer Josey over the few years he’s known her, she was more of a friend than a boss, he often forgot he even worked for her.  
Her loving disposition and cheerful attitude made Mickey a little uncomfortable at first, it eventually grew on him and he found himself opening up to her little by little. finding that maybe being taken care of from time to time wasn’t such a bad thing. 

Mickey felt himself let out a less than relieved sigh despite her thumbs digging to ease the stress from his muscles. 

“What is it?” he said, finally turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“How do you always know right away?” she let out a huff of her own and joined Mickey at his side, her hand trailing to rest between his shoulder blades, rubbing circles threw. Keeping that contact hoping it might ease any anxiety that would come from whatever she was about to say, no doubt.

“Fucking shit, just get it over with.” He tried not to sound too annoyed with her.

“The production managers want to bring in a partner to work with you on your weekend shows.” 

Mickeys eyebrows shot up, his head turning to look at Josey directly.  
“What the fuck did you just say?” and of fucking course it was a rhetorical question because he heard clearly what bullshit just came out of her mouth. “ Fuck no. absolutely not. you know i work alone. I don’t need a Paula Deen type bitch coming in and telling me how to do my job.” \  
He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves.

“Well not exactly a Paula Deen type he’s-“

Hell no.  
“You've already casted someone? Without even consulting me about it first?” Mickey was trying not to raise his voice because he knew it wasn't really her fault.

“You know when it comes to this kind of stuff it’s the executive producer and the director that have all the say. I’m sorry, honey.” She said genuinely her hand stroking at his shoulder comfortingly, Mickey could tell she felt bad about the situation. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for raising his voice at her.

“He's as bearable as they come,” She said, a smile returning to her face. “He doesn’t have much experience, you’ll mostly be teaching him recipes and the correct way to prepare certain pastries. they figure it’ll help bring in more beginners. I think it’s a really great idea, if my opinion counts for anything.”

“Of course it does.” he sighed and Josey knew by the lack of arguing that he wasn’t going to cause a scene over it. 

“I’ll try it out because I know no matter how much i fight this it's not gonna matter. but if this fucker starts to undermine me i'll be kicking his ass right out the door.” 

—-

Same day

Mickey found himself picking at a muffin in the break room, too nauseous from stress to even taste the new concoction he had put together the night before. He wasn’t exactly good with meeting new people, he was barely capable of having conversations with people he knew for years. His social anxiety mixed badly with his chronic defensive demeanor, making it nearly impossible to make a good impression on anyone.

It bothered Mickey from time to time because in all honesty it felt good to be liked. He'd never admit that to anyone of course but it felt good. It didn’t really matter though because he wasn’t really the type to let people in. because most people weren’t like Josey, most people were judgmental and untrustworthy and vindictive. Growing up Mickey noticed a lot of people in his life were like Terry Milkovich. and Terry milkovich did nothing for Mickey other than tear him apart piece by piece. 

So Mickey sits by himself in their little makeshift break room, despite being surrounded by crew members and help, and Mickey is a little grumpy now, given the bad news he received at the start of his day. Everyone might argue that he’s the same as always. because for the most part, from the outside looking in, grumpy seems to be Mickey's baseline. Unless you're Josey or Mandy of course, the only two people in the world that have ever truly been able to figure Mickey out, the only ones that stuck around long enough or put in the effort to even try to break down his walls. to be fair though the walls were about 100 feet tall and made of steel. Mickey knew he didn't make it easy.

“You gonna eat that?” a voice interrupted his silent sulking.

Mickey looked up from his muffin, a little shocked at the new voice piercing through his private bubble. young, was Mickey's first observation. Mickey figured it was one of the college interns they hired to fetch coffees and make lunch runs. And here this one was, tall and built strong, with a fiery head of hair asking if he could eat his breakfast and Mickey was a little dumbstruck, because who the fuck does that?

Mickey found himself shaking his head no. Because being approached by a new, attractive, good as hell, smelling person was doing nothing for his stress induced nausea.

“Mind if i?” he nodded towards it, a soft smile on his lips and Mickey noticed there were a few freckles surrounding that toothy white smile.

“Uh, sure” Mickey slides the cranberry and white chocolate muffin across the table to the stranger, not sure of what to say in this situation. The guy took an unnecessary large bite from the muffin, taking nearly half of it into his mouth in one go and the fucker practically moaned at the flavor and Mickey couldn’t help but laugh a little bit because this was fucking ridiculous.

“Are those macadamia nuts?” the other man asked, mouth full as he spoke and Mickey tried to mask his amused smile as he nodded.

“They’re uh” he scratched his eyebrow nervously watching as the stranger took another large bite from the muffin. “They’re candied.”  
He grunted happily at Mickey's response and pulled a chair up next to Mickey, completely uninvited he might add, and pushed it just a little bit closer to the dark haired man. Fuck this was weird. 

He finished off Mickeys muffin in record timing, picking the crumbs from the paper that lay empty on the table now. Getting every last bit of it into his mouth.

“Any reason you were scowling at your muffin?” the stranger asked teasingly and this was fucking absurd because theres no way this man, this 6 foot, muscle stacked and boundary-less excuse for a man ate his breakfast, made him laugh and is now attempting to nose around in his business. the audacity. 

“The fuck’s it to you?” Mickey snapped defensively.

The man shrugged, his eyes searching Mickey for something, Mickey wasn’t quite sure for what. He averted his eyes quickly, finding his nails to be a lot more appealing that the eye contact.  
Most people would’ve walked off by now so Mickey was a little shaken when that freckle specked mouth opened once again. 

“You look anxious, talking usually helps me when I get like that.” Mickey looks up at that, finding it hard to believe that a man seemingly as confident as him struggled at all with anxiety.

“The fuck you know about that, abercrombie?” Mickey scoffed, not turning his attention away from his fingernails.

“Abercrombie huh? you saying you find me attractive?” If Mickey's head had moved up any faster he swears he would've had whiplash, his eyebrows shooting up as he looked at the other man. 

“The fuck did you say to me?” there wasn’t as much anger laced in Mickey's voice as he would’ve liked, there was just a hint of a tremor from Mickey's nervousness and he’d beat himself up for it later for being so weak. 

Mickey knew this type of guy, the kind to flirt and pick with people they felt were less attractive, less confident to boost their ego.

The green eyes looking at him, almost looking through him, softened a little, noticing the little shake in his words but not bringing it up. That single look had Mickey second guessing though, wondering if his impression was 100% accurate. Mickey didn’t know what to think, how to feel. 

He shocked himself a little when he answered his original question. “They’re making me work with some asshole who doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.” Mickey sighed and for some reason he did feel a little better voicing his frustration.

“Maybe they're hoping you could teach this asshole something.” The other guy was grinning now, leaning his elbow on the table to get a more leveled look at Mickey. 

“it’s bullshit, the show was doing great on its own i don’t know why they have to go changing shit.” 

“the show is doing great, sure, but i think they know it can be better. they know you’re destined for bigger and better things.” The taller man said, honesty laced with his words and mickey was really fucking confused.

“Hey Mick, they want you on set in 5” Josey popped her head through the door, sending a smile to both the men “Hi Ian.” she said sweetly, sending him a wave before exiting to room.

“It was nice meeting you Mickey, i can't wait to work with you.” Ian said with a teasing lilt, and so many thoughts were racing through his head, not one escaping his lips as he just stared at the other man as he stood and made his exit. A knowing smirk on his lips. Mickey was fucked.  
——

Of course today would be the day they introduced Mickeys new weekend partner, of fucking course it was because they knew if they gave Mickey time to think about it, time to go over every possible outcome in his head from bad to worse to life cripplingly disastrous, it would give him time to back out. To find a way to scheme his way out of it. They discovered years ago how good Mickey was at getting out of things he didn't particularly like.

Mickey had done it time and time again, weazling his way out of special guests and invitations to events he had no interest at speaking at. Mickey was, for lack of a better word, anti social. His people skills were lacking greatly and he came off brutish to those who didn't know him better. Hell, even to the people he’d known for years.

Josephine picked up on Mickey's ways quickly. Picked up on the odd way he showed affection, through teasing jokes and banter, and it was easy to get confused with how he was with everyone else. Except he kind of gets this look in his eye, his friend discovered. Through seemingly harsh words she had seen the softness in his eyes. A plea buried deep in there as well, a ‘please see that im joking, please see that i like you’ and a heart breaking ‘please don’t leave.’ and she didn’t. And they have a mutual love for eachother that leaves Mickeys heart just a little fuller, that makes him feeling just a little bit less lonely.

Besides Josey, not that many people saw through Mickeys seemingly hostile ways, instead finding it very off putting. But here he was standing next to his new saturday morning opposite, Ian, his friend had called him, being the attention of his quiet side remarks on the ‘pre show powwow’ mickey had deemed it. 

Mickey couldn't help but let out these short little breathy laughs at the remarks coming from the ginger at his side, because the producers and director, save josey, were sort of assholes. Mickey didn’t laugh much at work. Don’t get it twisted, he fucking loved his job. It brought him a sense of pride and joy that he found something he was good at, something that people praised him for. Something he didn’t get much of growing up in the Milkovich house.

Eventually they were there, in front of the various cameras angling themselves at the big glass lenses and Mickey was speaking with ease. One thing he would never have expected out of himself. Despite never being able to have an easy flowing conversation with anyone he hadnt taken months to warm up to, the camera changed him and suddenly he knew all the right things to say. Confidence seemed to ooze from every word and even the producers didn't know what to make of it.

Sometimes Mickey would meet fans while he was out shopping or something and they would be shocked by his awkwardness and sometimes the brash comments that came from his mouth. They were never against the fans though, Mickey could never bring himself to be rude to the people that admired him so much. He didn't understand it a single bit but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love meeting every one of them. And most of the fans that he did meet seemed to know what to expect from him. Would laugh at his comments and some making crude jokes back to put him at ease and make him laugh.

Fuck did he love the little shitheads.

Mickey wasn't given a script for today really, just kind of given a basic idea of how he would introduce Ian into the picture. By saying he had a friend with him today that he was going to teach a few tricks to. Mickey had mentioned in the pre show huddle that he wasn't sure how this would keep going every weekend, that there's no way the regulars that watched the show would believe there's anything authentic about this at all. Because that's what they had sold themselves on. Authentic, all the recipes coming from Mickeys brain, nothing pre planned or scripted. The whole series was just Mickey winging it, doing whatever the hell he wanted and he fucking loved it. 

Mickey wasnt really sure how Ian was supposed to fit into all that.

Mickey had done what he was told regardless, introducing his supposed ‘childhood friend’ Ian, which Mickey was very hesitant about doing because if his fans knew how to do anything it was research and sniff out bullshit. But then Ian was mentioning how he grew up southside and sharing a short anecdote about how they used to play softball together and Mickey was thrown for a loop. Surely they had scripted that for him, surely Josephine had given some background to Mickey's childhood but he couldn't seem to remember mentioning baseball to Josey or anyone for that matter. 

Mickey tried to brush it off, get back to focusing on the filming but his brain was in a jumble trying to even remember what he was doing here in the first place. 

“Mick you’ve got to show me how to make those cranberry muffins. I'm not above begging.”

and the fucker gives him this teasing and knowing look as if he knows Mickey was just thrown for a loop. Mickey realizes that he had been thinking too long and hard and that he had forgot where he was, what he was supposed to be doing. Realizes that the comment was Ians way of bringing him back to the real world. And Mickey's mixed with a few different emotions. One being embarrassment, a flush threatening to tint his cheeks. And gratefulness because Ian had managed to save his ass there.

Mickey began taking out the ingredients, explaining the steps to Ian in the way he would to the camera. Letting him take the lead on measuring and mixing and Mickey found himself a little distracted, again, by the freckles on his knuckles.  
“You don't want to overmix the batter or you're gonna have some real dense muffins.” Mickey explained, gently taking the bowl from Ians hands to not spill the contents into the floor, he moved the spatula around to test the consistency.  
“We gotta keep those muffin tops soft.” Ian joked and then he was pinching at Mickey's hips and there were those mixed emotions again. He felt his stomach flip at the brief contact, his cheeks were definitely red with embarrassment now with how easily flustered he became. Without thinking much, his spatula moved quickly from the bowl to make messy contact with Ians cheek. The contents splattering on his shirt and hair as well and Mickey couldn't help to laugh at Ian's shocked face. His eyebrows raising high on his face.

A mischievous glint came over his eyes and Mickey knew he fucked up. Soon Ian was reaching for the bowl, hand intent on scooping up a large amount but Mickey moved away quickly.  
“Not the muffins man, I'm starving.” Mickey was backing away slowly from the taller man. “Some asshole ate my breakfast.” 

“Asshole huh?” Ian said with a grin before reaching up to his face to take the batter from it and smearing it into Mickey's hair, then grabbing a handful of flour and rubbing it in with it. 

Mickey just gawked at him for a second before a large grin swept across his face. He placed the batter a few feet away from them on the counter before he started throwing various pieces of chocolate and cranberries at his head, and there he was, mouth wide catching as many flying pieces in his mouth as he could. And Mickey was having so much fucking fun.

“Don’t hold out on those nuts Milkovich.” Ian said in a way to intentionally make it a crude joke, giving Mickey a look that oddly enough made him a little giddy before his green eyes were making a sidelong look at the candied macadamias on the table. 

“Nah man you couldn't handle em.” Mickey joked back, giving as good as he gets, shoving a couple into his own mouth instead. 

“What? You chicken?” and then Ian was holding up an egg and Mickey was laughing heartily at it, because it was so fucking corny and yet it made him warm, just a little bit comfortable somehow.  
Ian was creeping toward him now, clear purpose in his green eyes that his smile had no trouble reaching.

“Don't do it.” Mickey warned, the smile not leaving his lips. 

Even as Ian launched himself at Mickey and cracked the egg onto his head he couldn't bring himself to stop smiling, laughter made it hard.

Mickey took the dripping yolk from his head and reached out smearing it into the other mans messy ginger mop, bringing it down onto his face and Mickey's hand stuttered a bit there as it brushed over his cheek slowly, feeling the stubble there briefly and his eyes met Ians for a long moment, blinking slow and ian just let him, smile turning from teasing to soft and knowing. Mickey thinks that knowing look is going to get really fucking annoying.

The beep of the oven startled Mickey back and the crew was silent, just watching him steadily as he began to dump the batter into the muffin tins, going back to talking with just a hint of a tremor to his voice and Ian moved to help him as if unbothered by the whole thing.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fans love Ian.   
> Mickey gets a little flustered.

Saturday, August 29th, Evening 

He felt like he was going crazy, it had been hours, seemingly years and Mickey couldn’t manage to shake the thought of one man, of one fun, easy going, outspoken man. That somehow brought Mickey out of his shell just a little within the first few hours of knowing him.

Ian Gallagher was his full name he had discovered, after Josey had pulled him aside after the shoot, a grin stretched from ear to ear as she asked him what he had thought of his new baking partner. Still feeling light and bubbly with laughter all he could think was, cool, funny, fucking beautifully spectacular- what the fuck, get your shit together Mick, this isnt like you. 

Pushing his thoughts aside he gave her a simple, “he’s alright.” instead. But she read right through him like she always did, grinning even wider as he nervously scratched at his eyebrow, refusing to make eye contact with her.

“I sense a great friendship coming along.” her hand came up to pet at his head, fingers running through the short black strands, his eyes finally moved to meet hers.  
she winked at him and it made him feel a little warm, a little more at ease. He just shook his head at her, avoiding a smile himself. 

“can it. I mean it, no meddling.” Josey had a bad habit of meddling, despite being absolutely awful at it, she never really gave up. Mickey knew it was always in her best interest to make his life better, easier, more fulfilling. It just never worked out like that. She had tried setting him up on blind dates, which usually just ended with a drink in his face or nothing altogether, Mickey opting for the door the second he saw anyone even remotely out of his league.

Even at Mickey's refusal to talk about Ian, Josey had plenty to say.  
going on about how he really had grown up in the southside of chicago with a house full of siblings that he missed like crazy. She explained to him how he had even gone to the same high school as Mickey. That really shocked him because he’s sure he would have remembered someone like Ian. legs that long and hair that brightly colored would be hard to miss, apparently he did just that though. No matter how much he racks his brain he can't seem to spot one tall, muscular redhead in a single one of his memories. It's a shame really.

Apparently he was now studying film at NYU she explained, which kind of explained his makeshift internship he had gotten with their studio. “We interviewed a lot of candidates, but the moment i heard him speak i knew he was the right one.” Her voice was a little off while she spoke, Mickey isn't sure what it is but he thinks maybe she's just telling a partial truth. He doesn't ask though. 

“He is very charming, isn't he?” She’s trying to get him to share his feelings, he knows. But she knows herself that it's not easy for him to do.

He didn’t want to think about just how cute and charming Ian was. Despite how flirty and kind Ian may seem Mickey doesn’t do relationships, always ruins them before they even get started with his worrying and his insecurities. In another circumstance where Mickey didn’t have to see the other man every week, maybe he could’ve been one of Mickey’s quick fucks. With a few shots maybe Mickey could've gotten enough courage to approach a guy like Ian.

But that wasn't the case, so Mickey couldn’t look at Ian as anything but an acquaintance, or maybe, just maybe even a friend. Because Ian made Mickey feel good, and excited and just for a moment he thinks maybe this guy doesn't have an ulterior motive, maybe he’s just genuinely nice.

Despite setting his mind to strictly platonic outcomes with Ian, he still couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to the bright smile and mischievous eyes that teased him. That made him a little bit dizzy when they flickered over him in that way no one has really ever looked at him before. He’s not sure why he gets the pleasure of receiving that very look, has not a single clue as to why it feels so intimate to him but it does.

Mickey revisited the moment in his head where Ian had pinched at his hips and willed himself not to feel all hot and flustered about it. Because he really wasn’t sure of the intentions of it, maybe he was overthinking, like he often did over every small thing. But Mickey had heard similar words as a child, about his soft waist and thighs, words that were now etched into his psyche and played on repeat every time he saw his reflection. those words didn’t feel anything like Ian’s though.

Ian’s words felt almost encouraging and sweet and fucking adoring and they made Mickey's stomach flutter like cliche butterflies in some girly ass chickflick.

Saturday, September 5th, 9am

The episode was released the following Saturday at midnight like they always did, giving the editors a week to throw it together before they sent it into hulu, he guessed. The process practically explained to him in latin the first week he was on set.

He got a call from Josey that afternoon, her voice pitched high with excitement as she spoke to him quickly. 

“have you been on the internet today? Twitter, specifically.”

Mickey wasn’t one to really go on social media. Other than the livestreams he did (which he usually had help setting up.) he never really bothered with it. Too scared to go on instagram and post anything, too afraid of reading some awful comment, the same with twitter. Mickey knew there was a lot of hate floating around in the world, he knew better than anybody. So he did what he could to avoid it as much as possible. 

“No Jos, you know i don't go on that shit” he grumbled rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I've told you so many times you really need to get active on social media.” she said to him in almost a scolding tone and he just rolled his eyes to himself. “Not the point, ‘Mickey and Ian’ is trending,” she said, excitement making its way back to her tone. “god, Mickey they’re obsessed with you two as costars.”

Mickey sat up, his face scrunched with confusion as he put her on speaker and reluctantly began to download twitter onto his phone, taking a few minutes to make up some fake account for himself as he told Josey to calm down as she smoke too quickly for Mickey’s sleep groggy brain to process.

It took Mickey a minute to find exactly what she was talking about but after a little bit of instruction, sure enough there his name was alongside Ian’s, trending at #4. he clicked on the link to see what they had been posting but he really wished he hadn't. There were endless tweets about ‘sexual tension’ that maybe made Mickey’s cheeks warm with embarrassment and whatever the fuck ‘gallavich’ was and some talking about how attractive Ian was, which yeah, okay, fair. 

Mickey found himself agreeing with a few of those particularly, he convinced himself that his finger had just slipped when his thumb bumped the little red heart at a tweet waxing poetics about Ians freckled cheeks. Because those goddamn freckles were something to be admired. Mickey had noticed that a few of the tweets were coming from accounts that had screenshots of him and Ian from the show posted as their profile pictures and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that.

“Mickey you piece of shit.” his sister came crashing into his room. Too energetic for any Milkovich before noon on the weekend. “You didn't tell me you were working with Ian now dipshit. How the fuck did that happen?”

Mandy -

“I gotta go Jos.” her brother grumbled into the line something Mandy didn't quite catch, something about batshit crazy sisters and a quick i love you to his friend before he hung up the phone.

“Well?” Mandy said impatiently, moving to sit at the foot of Mickey's bed as he began to stand and move toward his closet. She’s asking as if she doesn't already know. As if she hadn't gotten off the phone with Ian hours after it happened to listen to his version of the night. As if she wasn't part of what made it all happen in the first place.

“Fuck if i know how it happened, you know him or something?” Mickey pulled out a pair of his newer light washed jeans and pulled them over his legs. Mandy knew immediately that that was a good sign, having told him weeks ago that the jeans did wonders on his thighs. Which earned her a punch in the arm but in the end he had ended up purchasing them anyway.

“We grew up like 2 blocks away from him, can't believe you don't remember. A little shorter that he is now, scrawnier too. He used to work at the kash and grab.” Mandy kind of understands how maybe Mickey didn't recognize him, he had changed a lot after Mickey graduated a year after him. He had shot up about 5 inches, packed on muscle, making him seem a lot broader.

“No shit?” Mickey mumbled, Mandy could tell he was trying hard to picture a younger Ian. Mandy supposes if Mickey had to pick out anyone from high school from a lineup he would fail miserably, because she knew how he avoided everyone, sitting alone at lunch when she or their cousin Sandy weren't there to sit with him. He kept his head down, stayed out of the way, going unnoticed by everyone except one certain, lovestruck ginger.

Mandy lost contact with Ian shortly after graduation, him getting caught up in shit with his mom and her trying to dodge any trouble her dad tried to get her caught up in. But apparently the universe wasn't done with them and she couldn't be more grateful when she heard an unmistakable voice in her and Mickey's favorite coffee a few blocks away from the studio.  
She had ran up to him, probably scaring him shitless when she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He had been just as ecstatic when he saw it was her though.  
They had caught up over coffee and warm chocolate croissants and shared how their lives have changed over the past 7 years since graduating.  
He had explained how he was in his senior year of college, how he had studied film and was hoping to become a director one day. Ian had always had big dreams like that. He had said he was looking for an internship or something to help him get started. And that right there is when it all really started, when Mandy had mentioned that she could probably help him out because she was pretty close with some major new york producers and then she brought up Mickey and something in Ians face had changed immediately. 

“He’s gay, y’know.” she had said, testing his reaction and yep, there it was. All the proof she needed that Ian Gallagher held some sort of torch for her brother.

It didn't take long for her to start poking around in that particular weak spot. Ian had spilled his guts almost immediately about the crush he harboured for her older brother over the years. And well, Ian was fucking amazing and sweet and gay for god sake and yeah maybe she didnt know Mickey was gay until it was too late to set the two up but it wasnt too late now. So she made a mental note to call Mickey’s friend Josephine later because if anyone in the world would be down for meddling in Mickey Milkovich's non existent love life, it was her.

Mandy was standing now, sifting through his closet until she pulled out a blue patterned button up and shoved it at him. 

“You fucking joking?” Mickey gave the shirt a disgusted look that she saw right through, she knew he had loved the article of clothing. It had been a gift from Josey on his last birthday. The floral pattern on the shirt had been a little too adventurous for Mickey's taste so it had stayed in his closet for close to a year now. She decided enough was enough.  
“Those jeans make your ass look nice, might as well complete the look.” 

“Gross” Mickey mumbled but grabbed the shirt from her hands anyway, slipping it around his shoulders, Mandy slapped his hand away when he went to button the last two buttons of the short sleeved shirt. Because it looked better like that. And because maybe she wanted to torture Ian just a little bit today.

“You two looked like you really hit it off.” Mandy said nonchalantly as she began to fix Mickey's hair, raking her fingers through it to make it look more presentable. 

Mickey ignored the comment. “Why are you trying to get me all dressed up?” he huffed, annoyance laced in his voice while swatting her hands away from his hair.

“No reason.” She tried to say without sounding too suspicious before moving towards the door before she had time to blow her cover. “Have a good day shooting.”

Ian -

Ian had known mickey for as long as he can remember, they were never really close, never really talked for that matter. not because Ian hadn’t wanted to talk to the guy, because he had, Mickey had just never made it easy. Ian knows he was a nervous little thing back then, was awkward and unsure of himself at the time.  
Ians crush had started out very small his freshman year when he had recognized sophomore Mickey with his messy black hair and baggy jeans as the kid he played little league with, the scruffy one that pissed on first base. Ian couldn't help but notice how much good puberty had done him, sculpting out his soft features into something he could only describe as beautiful. His crush only intensified over the 3 years he spent close to Mickey in high school.

Ian had somehow managed to see to the sweeter side of him, days when he would defend his sister when some asshome called her a slut or some other crude term because she wouldn’t put out for them. he’d noticed the small things he did for Mandy and his cousin Sandy on their birthdays every year. He got to watch a few lockers down as mickey slipped birthday cards through the grates in their lockers every year. always looking around after to see if anyone had seen him, Ian made the mistake freshman year of not looking away quick enough, earning a glare and a “the fuck are you gawking at?”.

Anyone else would have been scared off by that, but it only made Ian more intrigued. 

Saturday, September 5th, around 11am

Ian wasn't sure what kind ungodly power was working against him today as he walked toward the studio for his second day of shooting, because he had seen Mickey in the reflection of the glass door, just feet behind him and his heart had sputtered just a little bit at just how good he looked. He had to remind himself to keep his composure. Remind himself that he wasn't some lanky awkward teen anymore. He was a confident man with aspirations and money in his bank account. He did not get nervous over men anymore he tried to tell himself, but somehow, even after so many years, Mickey Milkovich was the exception. 

He had pulled the door open and stepped aside, finally turning to get a good look at the man. His eyes immediately dropping to the fabric wrapped snuggly around those fucking thighs and fuck why was he nearly hard just looking at the goddamn things. Just for a brief moment, as Mickey walked through the door, his eyes flickered to Mickey’s jean clad ass and nearly fell to his knees.

Mickey -

Mickey is not really sure how to act the next time he sees Ian gallagher. Mickey couldn't help but think that he looked cool, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and his long sleeved shirt pushed up around his forearms as he walked just a few feet in front of him. Mickey thinks he may be busted for checking him out when the man honest to god stops and holds the door open for him. 

And sure, strangers did it for him time to time. Because it's something that decent people just do without a thought. And yet Mickeys annoyed at himself for how weak it seems to make his knees, for fucks sake the guys just showing some common decency. 

“Thanks” he mumbles, walking into the building in front of Ian now.

Mickey heard the shuffling of feet behind him as Ian jogged to catch up with him.  
“Morning Mick.” Ian greeted walking next to him now, Mickey thinks maybe he’s imagining the flushed cheeks on the other man. 

“You look really nice today.” He says, when mickey doesn't reply.

Mickey could punch him, he thought, he could punch him right in his speckled face.  
But he wouldn't, and the only reason he wouldn’t was because he would be fired. He was most certainly not holding himself back because the comment had given him just a little boost of confidence, his cheeks tinting a little bit with it. And it definitely wasn't because he was growing a quick admiration for the guy.

Who gave Ian gallagher the right in the first place? This was his second time even being around him and he thought he could make comments like that. Thought he could just fucking compliment Mickey, Jesus, he ought to be infuriated. instead he just huffed out a “fuck off.” no real heat behind his words as he started to walk faster toward Josey who was occupied talking to one of the other producers and his best friend's fiance, Arlow.

“Good afternoon darling.” she chirped when she saw him, dragging him into a crushing hug Mickey had grown accustomed to, her dark curls nearly smothering him in the process. 

“You look hot.” her hands moving from around his back to straighten the collar of his shirt. “I knew that shirt would look great on you.” she grinned as she ran her hands down his shoulders to hand loosely in his hands, looking into his eyes to show that she had really meant the compliment. Mickey cheeks were fucking warming again causing Josey to pinch at his them before giving the right one a peck. 

“Yeah, yeah.” he brushed off her complement in classic Mickey fashion. He briefly thought back to Ians complement earlier and how Mickey had actually thanked him. Which was odd for him he’s just now recognizing. And now he’s overthinking because what if Ian notices how he had thanked him but not his own goddamn best friend.  
“Thanks.” he mumbled to her and she looked shocked by it. That being the very first time Mickey had taken a compliment from her. He’s thankful when she doesn't say anything about it.

She changed the topic quickly to Mickey’s relief. “Your suit gets here monday.” she says cheerily. “A little too last minute for my liking but I'm excited to see it on you with all the adjustments.” 

“I still think its ridiculous that you wont let me wear a plain fuckin suit.” he groaned. 

Months ago Josey had asked him to be her maid of honor, he had said no the first few times because he knew all the work that the maid of honor usually did. But eventually she had begged and Mickey was never good with saying no when it came to Josey's pleas, so he caved. 

He had gotten roped into planning her bachelor party with male fucking strippers that Mandy had hired without his knowledge and way too much alcohol, and she had loved ever minute of it. And now with the wedding was approaching a lot faster than he would like, the date set for next sunday, he was expected to wear this complex navy suit with embroidered designs along the pants and shit and Mickeys still got to write a fucking speech and order some goddamn presentable shoes. 

“Yeah, alright i'll stop by monday.” she seemed pleased with his answer, nodding before looking briefly over his shoulder.  
She then leans in close to his neck, a soft smile gracing her lips. “I think someones waiting for you” she had spoken quietly in his ear. 

Mickey had turned his head just as Ian approached the small forming group. 

“Hi Josephine, Arlow” Ian greeted politely, taking his place next to Mickey like he had been since the very first minute he met him. “Nice to see you again.”

Mickey found himself wondering briefly why he had been the only one to receive compliments from the other man. Arlow was fairly young and attractive, with caramel skin and long, thick eyelashes. Definitely more attractive than himself he would say. And Josephine was fucking stunning but no one could really miss the gleaming engagement ring resting on her left hand so Mickey figures thats why Ian has kept to himself on her part.

Ian moved just a little bit closer to Mickey as the three talked around him, his hand brushing up against Mickey's arm just enough to get Mickey's heart racing a bit. 

Mickey willed himself to stop acting so goddamn touch starved. It was so hard to ignore the tingles in the spot that Ian had touched, shooting warmth throughout his body, distractinging him from the world around. 

Soon that brushing hand turned into a gentle elbow nudging at his rib, drawing him back into reality as he brought his eyes up and over to look at Ian. He was grinning at him, amusement showing in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows.

“Arlow was asking you what you were baking today.”

“Oh, uh” Mickey shuffled away from the dangers that were Ians touches, too scared of being sucked back into that dazed state. 

Mickey felt Ians intense gaze on him as he spoke, his voice wavering as Ians warmth against his arm became unbearably hard to ignore. “Was thinking about doing some cherry croissants with cream filling, maybe some apricot compote.” 

They all nodded along, agreeing that it sounded delicious before they started talking about technical things, about the ratings. Mickey was just happy the attention had shifted from him, hoping they hadn't noticed just how easily flustered Mickey was getting over nothing at all really.

\----

Mickey had spent close to 10 minutes in the bathroom just before shooting started, finger pointing at himself in that corny way you would only see in movies and Mickey felt absolutely ridiculous. ridiculous that he had to remind himself, repeat it over and over to himself just to really get it drilled in there, to stay professional. To stay friendly at least. 

But now, standing next to Ian as he kneaded the butter into the croissant dough, his professionalism was going right out the window. 

His eyes had drifted down to watch as Ian’s hands worked at the dough, his clinical way of folding the dough changed as he felt Mickey's eyes on his hands. His palms gripping and kneading with purpose now and Mickey hated how hot it made him feel. Mickey felt like he was vibrating with need just watching his fingers stretch around the dough and squeeze. Mickey almost felt ashamed imagining how those fingers would feel squeezing at the flesh of his ass like he squeezed at the bit of fat around his hip just a week ago. 

Mickey didn't even know he had a thing for hands but in this moment, watching ians long slender fingers work he thinks maybe he’s discovering something new about himself.

And this was getting really dangerous for the tight crotch of Mickey’s jeans, so he took a long and steady breath, forcing the thoughts away before more got more explicit, more undeniably inappropriate. 

He stuttered with his explanation as he tried to look away from the hands that were so easily frustrating him.

Ian was looking over at him now, attention away from the dough as he watched Mickey trying to find his wording, the heat in the other man's eyes not helping his case at all. 

—

Eventually, after Mickey had stumbled through the rest of the instructions they had managed to get the croissants into the oven and they had moved on to the cream filling.

Mickey had given him free reign on this part, explaining that at home he just liked to  
wing it with measurements of things like whipped cream or icing. they were so simple Mickey figures not even the most inexperienced cook could fuck it up.

After explaining the few ingredients he needed and giving him a rough estimate of how much he needed of each, Ian reached his cream covered finger towards Mickey. And god not those fucking fingers again. Mickey swears this man is trying to kill him.

“Opinion, master chef Mickey?” he said with a bow, because of course that’s how corny Ian Gallagher was. He had figured that out after the first day of meeting him but it still made him roll his eyes.

“you couldn’t have given me the spoon?” Mickey said, giving him an unimpressed look. He hopes Ian cant see how cool and collected Mickey really fucking isnt right now.

“we have limited supplies.” Ian shrugged, motioning towards his hand again, offering it to Mickey to taste. Mickey didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, even though it was absolute bullshit, because they were supposedly long term best friends, they supposedly just did this shit all the time.

so Mickey leaned in to lick the bit of cream off Ian’s finger, being careful not to linger too long on the intriguing heat of Ian’s hand, off the slight curl of Ian’s finger against his tongue, off the intoxicating flavor that could only be described as Ian.  
The flavor his Mickeys taste buds hard as more of an aftertaste, the overly sugary whip making his face twist with disgust.

“That's way too sweet, man.”

“Still not as sweet as you though.” Mickey couldn’t help but laugh that time at Ian’s corniness, maybe because it made him feel just a little bit jittery. Maybe because it broke through just a little bit of that tension that had settled like a fog around the room.

“Come on, we’re starting over” he said, taking Ian’s bowl and dumping the contents in the trash bin. 

Ian looked at him with mock hurt. “I take it back.” he shook his head at Mickey. “You’re like coco bean bitter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts on the fic so far, I'm really eager to know how y'all are feeling about it.
> 
> Roman


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey learns to enjoy himself a little.

Monday Morning, September 8th

Mickey had woken up in a sweat, his heart pounding out of his chest as if he was running from the cops again on the murky streets of the southside and he’s not sure why he’s so fucking worked up. Why his cock is laying hard and heavy against his stomach over the smallest thing. 

He had been having a dream and sure sometimes one of his particularly intense sex dreams would leave him just as breathless but that wasnt even the case. 

It felt juvenile, waking up a panting mess over something as simple as a flash of green eyes, the false sensation of warmth ghosting over his lips, fingers, then breath, and eventually soft lips that had given his body a warm tingling sensation and his gut a strong pleasurable burn. 

It wasnt anything more than that really. Nothing but vibrant orange strands pushed through his own fingers and the frustration he felt for not being able to feel the real texture of it. Nothing more than an embrace that filled his body with so much emotion.

Mickey tries to will himself to go back to sleep, the sun just barely starting to come up and peak its way through his curtains. He didn't want to think too much of it, to think about who the other body was, he just wanted to immerse himself back into that dream, back into that safe feeling. But there was no fooling himself, Mickey knew exactly who those lips and eyes had belonged to. His currently aching cock not letting him forget it.

So he had indulged himself, just this once he would allow himself to reach down, a firm grip around the hardened flesh. Images of Ian fresh in his mind as he ran his finger over his leaking tip, sliding the wetness down the length of his staff. He imagined Ians large hands on his hips, because he had known that feeling, could remember the warmth of it against his side now as he began to stroke faster. 

Mickey felt his orgasm building quickly, turning his head to bite at his pillow and stifle to needy moans he was so close to letting out. 

His mind wandered to Ians hands, the way they had kneaded at the dough just a few nights before and this time he couldn't stop himself. Too curious and desperate to want to stop as his left hand moved down between his legs to rub at his hole, not quite entering but adding a bit of pressure there and that was all it took. Throwing his head back against his pillow in a quiet gasp, his body shaking through one of the strongest orgasms he thinks he’s had in his life.

\--

Later that afternoon

“Darling, don't take this the wrong way but you look exhausted.” worry laced Josephine's voice, her thumb moving to brush at the bags under Mickey's eyes.

After laying awake for hours, mind replaying the brief moments he had spent with the man in his dreams. Trying to convince himself that it didn't mean anything. That the familiar eyes and broad shoulders were just a sign that he had been keyed up for a little too long. He didnt want to believe this was all a product of some dumb crush he’d developed for his costar. As if it wasn't hard enough now to miss the guy, just as an acquaintance he had known for less than a month. Less than a goddamn month and he had already burrowed under Mickey's skin.

“Didn't sleep much.” Mickey shrugged, following his friend into her living room where the navy suit lay on her couch, the plastic covering keeping it safe from the cat fur undoubtedly imbedded into the cushions. 

“Where is the little guy?” 

He looked over at Josey now, her face seemingly lost in thought before she looked up, her lips turning up into a genuine smile. “I should've known she was the only reason you stopped by so early.” 

She walked her way over to the screen door. “She probably doesn't know you’re here yet, do you want to do the honors?” she asked, pushing the door open to her little back yard. 

Stepping up next to her and letting out a short whistle, calling his cat with that higher pitched voice he uses to talk to her. She was there within seconds, the bit of tummy she had swaying as she walked briskly towards him. 

Bending down he rubbed at her white fur, the orange spots serving as the smallest reminder of a man he’s been trying to forget all morning. “Hey Bowie” he spoke softly to her. “Missed ya.” 

He really had missed the cat, the sweet little thing that he had picked up from a box left a few blocks away from his house. He had passed it on his walk to the coffee shop one day, the mewing sound almost lost in the loud traffic of the city. 

He had fallen in love the second he saw her, immediately scooping her up and bringing her to his apartment. 

Unfortunately for him and his new little friend, Mandys allergies didn't take too well to the little fluff ball. 

“I’m still trying to find a place for her.” he spoke, just a little bit of sadness laced in his words. “I appreciate you guys watching her for this long.” 

He was scratching at her ears, her purring serving as a relaxant to his fairly stressful morning. He understood why Josey couldn't keep her. They traveled a lot with the business they were in, were never home to keep a schedule of feeding her, and damn did this cat like to eat a lot. 

“We know you do.” she rubbed at your shoulder soothingly. “You’ll find a good home for her.”

Mickey scooped Bowie into his arms and made his way back to the living room.

\--

“What's on your mind?” They were sitting on her couch now, Bowie asleep on his lap as he ran his hand over her back, so gentle as to not wake her.

Mickey didn't talk about his feelings often, almost not at all before he met Josephine. But somehow now, when it came to her he was like an open book. She made it feel safe to talk about whatever. Like no matter how he was feeling, whether he was sad or mad or confused, she would validate it, give him advice or simply just listen. 

He let out a long sigh, not really out of frustration but just hoping it would alleviate some of his anxiety. “The new guy, i just fucking met him,” he rubbed at his face “but, i dont know.” he paused. “ its stupid.”

She just smiled at him, like even though he wasn't saying anything at all, she knew exactly what he meant. “You like him.” she spoke, her words sure.

And Mickey just stared at the ceiling, silent for a moment. Letting her words sink in. “fucking shit, i dont know.” he huffed, the room remaining silent for a moment after he spoke. “Maybe.” he whispered, his voice just loud enough for his friend to hear. As if it was the biggest goddamn secret in the world that Mickey fucking Milkovich liked someone.

“You know,” she finally spoke now, looking up to her as she spoke he saw that easy smile gracing her lips, comforting Mickey. “I think he likes you too.”

“I think it's all just for the camera.” He’s not really sure where the fuck that came from, wasnt even aware thats how he felt until he actually said it out loud. But yeah, that sounds like an intrusive thought he could definitely be having.

Her face scrunched in confusion now. “He’s not the same when you’re off set?”

Mickey just shook his head, choosing not to speak because he was scared of what else he might say.

\----

Monday Evening

Mandy -

“Yo dipshit. I thought you said things were going well.” Mandy growled into the phone at her recently retitled best friend. 

Mandy had received a text from Josephine a few hours after her brother left the house explaining Mickey's insecurities. And she knew it was coming, because she knew her brother. Knew he would overthink every little thing, especially if he had liked Ian like she figured he would. Cause he was consistent like that, consistent with his self loathing and self sabotage. It was sad seeing her brother like that but it had become such a normal thing. She was hoping that eventually he would get past all that. Ian was the perfect person to help him get through it, she thought, as patient and kind as he was. 

“It has been?” he said as more of a questions. “It's only been 2 weeks.”

“Tell me. When you flirt with him or whatever the fuck, do you do it consistently?” she paused, already knowing the answer to her question. “Or just when you two are filming.”

There was another pause, her rhetorical question sinking in a lot slower than Mandy had the patience for.

“He said something to you?” He asked, genuinely curious.

She sighed into the phone, she really didn't want to tell Ian much about what Mickey was feeling. She felt it wasn't her place because, when and if the time came, she wanted Mickey to be able to tell him that at his own free will. Because he wanted to, felt comfortable enough with him too.

“Listen just, maybe reel it in on the flirting while filming.” she said, hoping she wasn't giving too much away. “Show him you’re not just doing it to make the producers happy.”

“Okay.” Ian said, voice soft and so, so serious. “Yeah, okay, i can do that.”

She just hummed, a little more relieved that he had got how important it was for him to understand without much direction, how important Mickey was to her. 

“Thank you, Mandy.” and sure he could've been thanking her for the bit of advice she had given him but it felt like more than that. Like he was thanking her for trusting him with something fragile and sacred. And Mickey wasn't fragile, she knew that but he was a little wounded and a little complicated and even though he didn't need it, she felt like it was in her to protect him no matter what. 

Saturday Morning, September 12th

Mickey -

Mickey was sitting by himself in his usual spot, chewing absently at his breakfast sandwich, not enjoying it nearly as much as he usually did despite the toasted bread being especially buttery today. 

He couldn't seem to bring himself out of the slump he was in. 

Today was the last day of filming before their show took a short hiatus, a little over a month it would last. and usually Mickey would be grateful to have some vacation days, some time to just hang out with his sister, maybe get a few more pages done for the cookbook he’s been working on. 

But he still can't help but feel a little down about it. 

As much as he hated to admit it, he would kind of miss the few hours every saturday he had spent with Ian, despite only having done it a few times he still looked forward to it. He even looked forward to seeing Ian this morning, having brought him a muffin from the batch he had made a few nights before, but he was late today. Making Mickey's mood just a little bit worse.

Usually seeing Josey would lift his spirits but he couldn't count on that today either, her having taken the day off to get any last minute arrangements straightened out before her wedding tomorrow. 

“Hey man, you’re looking extra grumpy this morning.” Arlows voice cut through Mickey's quiet sulking, his arm coming up to clap at Mickey’s shoulder. “What’s got you so in the dumps, buddy?”

“Fuck off man, nothing.” he grumbled, shrugging his hand off his shoulder.  
“You seen Gallagher around this morning?” he asked, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

By the look on Arlows face he wasn't buying it at all. “Yeah, someone on camera crew pulled him aside earlier to talk over some technical stuff. Last time i checked though she was talking to him about her kids so maybe he needs some rescuing.”

Mickey was already standing before Arlow even finished talking. The other man's hand went to grab at the muffin resting on the table. Mickey quickly swatted at him before he could get his hands on it. “Not for you.”

He hears Arlow stifle a laugh as Mickey walks out of the small break room, muffin in hand.

-

There Ian was, leaning up against one of the studio's metal pillars, nodding along to whatever the camera woman was rambling on and on about. He looked so sweet like that, the faintest smile resting on his pink lips, his eyes focused on the woman in front of him as if he was listening intently to whatever she was saying.

Before Mickey could work up the nerve to walk over to them and interrupt the conversation Arlow was there, saying something Mickey didn't really make an effort to listen to and then he was walking away with the woman over towards the camera and she looked like she was explaining something to him, using large hand movements and lots of facial expressions. Arlow looked over at him briefly, giving him a wave that could only be described as a straight mans ' I got you, bro’ salute.

Mickey took that as his cue to walk over to the taller man, his focus now on his phone as he types away at his screen. 

“Hey” Mickey says just a little too loud in the sudden quiet of their space.

“Mickey” Ian said, a soft greeting, his eyes bright and warm as if seeing him had just made his whole day. Mickey thinks he knows the feeling.

“Thought maybe you overslept or something.” Mickey looked down at his shoes, mentally telling himself not to be so fucking nervous. 

“You were looking for me?” Ian said, the tone of his voice, surprised yet happy, had Mickey looking up at him again, seeing a bright toothy grin spread from cheek to cheek.

“No big deal, just uh.” jesus Mick, just fucking speak “i brought you a muffin.” he spoke quickly, pushing his hand out to give it to Ian. 

Something on Ians face changed briefly, his bright smile dropping just a little bit and something close to a heat filled his eyes and made Mickey want to squirm under the gaze. “You bake this for me?”  
His hand came up to grab at it, his eyes not leaving Mickeys as his fingers brushed along his, lingering there for a moment too long. 

Mickeys not sure what the fuck he said to cause such a shift in the rooms temperature. Whatever it was it was making his heart race. Mickey wonders what kind of reaction he’d get from the man if he had baked him a whole goddamn pie, wonders if he’d push it aside and take to eating him instead. 

Mickey tried to take a deep breath, it coming out shaky between the small distance Ian had created between the two. He really hoped what he was thinking wasn't reading so obvious on his face. 

“We should probably make our way to the set.” Mickey said, so fucking quietly that he himself almost didnt hear it.

-

Filming with Ian was different today. Mickey found himself disappointed that he didn't get the teasing jokes and touches he normally got from the other man. Mickey thinks maybe Ians catching on to the little crush he’s developed and decided he should probably lay off before Mickey got the wrong idea. 

Mickey couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it, trying to hastily make his way off set after without seeming too suspicious. 

“Hey Mick, wait up.” Ian had called out to him as he jogged to catch up with Mickey as he made his way to the front door.

in any other circumstance Mickey would've kept walking. But for some reason he still couldn’t wrap his head around, Ian made him a little weaker. Not necessarily in a bad way, he thinks, feels too good, even through the anxiety. 

“what is it?” Mickey asks, trying to mask the disappointment he still felt from the assumptions his brain was making.

“what are you doing today?”

Mickey's head turned back quickly to look at him, because well, he was intrigued at where this conversation might be leading. 

“i was heading to the store.” he says, ‘unless there was something else you wanted to do’ he thought but couldn’t bring himself to say. “i have this brunch with Josey and her family tomorrow.”

Mickey couldn’t help but laugh a little at the face Ian made at his statement. Because southside boys didn’t do fucking brunch. “gotta get stuff to make apple pastries.” 

Ian nodded, his face cool and sweet and unwavering. “so no other obligations besides that?” he asked hopefully.

“what’d you have in mind?” Mickey's face broke into a grin, suddenly this day was going a whole lot better for him.

“was hoping you’d want some company.” They were walking out of the building now, the light breeze feeling good on his skin, he felt happy that the hot summer days were starting to simmer away into cool fall evenings. 

“i’ve got a car.” Ian spoke when Mickey had paused to just breath in the fresh air.

“you’ve got a car. in new york city?” Mickey said teasingly.

“mostly just sits in the car garage down the road collecting dust.” Ian admits “was kinda hoping it would come in handy eventually.”

“yeah, alright, lead the way.” Mickey finally caved, as if it wasn’t his plan from the beginning.

-

“we’ve passed like 3 grocery stores man, where the fuck are we going.” 

Ian grinned over at him, all toothy and wide. “the great Mickey Milkovich can do so much better than some genetically modified granny smiths.”

Mickey's eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“there’s this orchard, about 45 minutes outside the city.” and Ian glanced at him, unsure expression on his face before moving his eyes back to the road. “If you don’t mind the drive, I can turn around.” he spoke quickly.

This is the first time he’s seen Ian look remotely unsure about anything. He felt the need to immediately ease any worries the man had.

“an apple orchard huh? never been to one.” Ian visibly relaxed, his smile coming back and mickey couldn’t help but smile along with him. an apple orchard, kinda sounds like something people would do on a date. the thought making Mickeys stomach flutter, he tried not to linger on the thought.

Although it was really hard not to feel that way, with the soft music drifting through the speakers, Mickey thinks it must be a playlist because everything playing is so gentle and sweet and feels like love caressing his ears. Nothing like the bubblegum pop shit they play on the radio nowadays.

Mickey finds himself thinking about love, for the first time in such a long time. there in the comfortable silence of Ian's car and he briefly wonders if Ian’s ever been in love before, wonders what kind of person it would take to catch the eye of a guy like him. Thinks about what Josey had said about Ian maybe liking him too.

he looked over at Ian as he drove, watching his lips as they sang along so slightly to the music. He looked deep in thought, his eyes focused on the road but not really there. it gave Mickey the opportunity to just look at him. He admired the freckles spattered across his nose and cheeks, darkened by the past summer months. mickey kind of dreads the winter solely for the fact that they may fade.

Mickey admires the stubble growing on his strong jaw, it had grown thicker and longer since the first time he met him. he really can’t complain because fuck the guy would look sexy as hell with a beard.

“whatcha lookin at?” Ian broke the silence, his voice coming out just as soft as the music playing around them, his eyes glancing momentarily over at Mickey.

fuck, he’d been caught red handed

Mickey felt his cheeks warm, immediately turning his head forward to look at the road now, his finger coming up to scratch at his eyebrow nervously. “not your ugly mug.”

Mickey saw Ian grin out of the corner of his eye as if seeing right through Mickey's comment.

“mhm.” he hummed, moving one of his hands from the wheel to rest on the center console.

Mickey wanted so much to grab it, to lace their fingers together and just enjoy the touch of the other. but knowing his luck it would end up not being a suggestion, or an invitation and the man was just trying to fucking get comfortable in his own blue goddamn honda. 

so he just left his hand resting in his own lap, his fingers practically twitching with the need for contact.

-

“ I take it you don't remember me at all from high school.” They were walking side by side now, making their way slowly through the long rows of trees, Ian holding their little basket as Mickey skimming the trees until he saw an apple that caught his eye enough to examine it, sometimes leaving it behind if it didn't meet his standards. 

“Don't take it personal man.” Mickey said whilst turning down yet another subpar apple. “I couldn't even tell you the name of my homeroom teacher, and I had seen the guy every day for four years.”

“Mr. Holden.” Ian said simply, his arm holding out an apple he had picked off of one of the upper limbs for Mickey to examine. 

Fuck, that was a good apple. “What?” Mickey asks as if Ian had said something he didn't quite catch. Mickey turned the apple in his hands, the perfectness making a smile come to his lips as he placed it into the basket.

“Your homeroom teacher.” Ian scratched at his neck nervously. 

“You remember that?” Mickey asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Because for someone to remember something like that they would’ve really had to have paid close attention. 

“I talked to you once.” Ian dodged the question. “It was prom night.”

Mickey turned his head to look at him directly, his confusion increasing by the second. “I didn't go to prom.” Mickey said simply, Ian must be getting him confused with someone else.

“I didn't either, I walked Mandy to the school that night though.” Ian was looking at his feet as he walked slowly alongside Mickey. “Wanted to make sure she got there alright and everything.” He kicked at a stray apple, the red ball rolling to a hard stop at the base of a tree.

“You gonna get to the point here eventually, or?” Mickey said impatiently, he hoped Ian caught that something in his voice that showed he wasn't actually annoyed with their conversation.

“On my walk back home, i saw you, sitting at the dugouts by yourself.” Ian laughed softly at the memory. “You were drunk off your ass, just laying in the center of the field, looking at the stars.”

Mickey groaned a laugh at that. Because it was so fucking cliche. Mickey didn't remember much about that night. Just that he had told his dad he was going so he wouldn't get caught up in whatever him and his ex convict friends were getting up to that night. He had thrown on one of his dads button ups that the man had owned only to wear at his growing list of court dates. 

He remembers leaving his house, shirt tucked into his jeans and a backpack full of beers he’d stolen from the fridge when his dad wasn't looking. 

He remembers making his way to his usual spot at the dugouts and he remembers digging his knife into the side of several beer cans before shotgunning them. But no matter how desperately he tries he can't remember the ginger in front of him now, and that's a goddamn shame.

“I jumped the fence and ran over to you, expecting you to be dead or something.” He laughed. “But when i got to you, you just looked at me and fucking smiled. I'd never seen you smile before that.” 

Ian shook his head, grinning at the memory. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes.” Ian drawled in an accent that could only be described as a very poorly executed drunk Mickey impression. 

“No i fucking didnt.” Mickey looked over at Ian in bewilderment. 

“Oh yes you fucking did.” Ian grinned and they were both laughing now, letting out these full bellied laughs that made Mickeys heart fucking sore. 

“God thats a fucking awful first impression.” Mickey groaned after getting his laughter under control. 

He reached his hand up quickly toward a high limb, spotting a bright red apple that made his mouth water just looking at it. Fuck why couldnt he have grown just 2 inches fucking taller during puberty, he thought, his hand gripping onto a sturdy limb as he went on his toes to try and grasp the apple. 

A warm hand rested at his lower back, the large palm burning a hole through Mickey in such a pleasant way as Ian reached over him to grab at the red fruit above him. 

Mickey turned to grab the apple from his hands, the hand on his back shifting to rest on his soft hip as his body moved. “I noticed you long before that.” Ian said so, so gently. The words felt so intimate in between the new closeness of their bodies, as if that sentence alone was only ever meant for Mickey's ears. 

Ian was giving Mickey a look that made him a little weak in the knees and red in the face. His eyes sweet yet really fucking hot at the same time, as they drifted to look at Mickeys lips. It was just for a second. If he hadn't been paying attention to Ians every movement he probably would’ve missed it.

Mickey made an effort to try and steady his breathing and his heart before it became obvious how much the short distance was affecting him.

Ian must have noticed because he stepped back, clearing his throat and shoving his fists into his pockets to tug and adjust his pants. Mickey found it kind of fascinating.

“This is going to sound really fucking corny, but do you want to watch the sunset with me?” Ian said and Mickey could tell he was almost cringing at his own words

“Fuck it, why not?” Mickey said because he thinks maybe doing corny shit wasn't all that bad, as long as he was doing it with Ian.

-

“You’re kind of the reason I'm here.” Ian stated, they were laying on a hill now, overlooking the little farm and all the neat little rows of trees and the sky was just starting to turn a beautiful shade of orange. 

“Whaddaya mean?” Mickey asked, his arm moving to rest behind his head as the other lay loosely between the two men, ians arm doing the same, their arms touching but their hands not quite catching the memo, yet. 

“I layed down beside you, like we are now, and you just started talking.” the sun was slowly making its way behind the mountains in the distance now. “I remember so clearly, you said ‘what's the point in living if you're not going to put every ounce of yourself into who you want to be.’” 

And yeah, that sounded like something Mickey has said, when scolding himself mostly. Telling himself that he could always do better, could always be better than what he was. 

“Didn't realize i got so philosophical when i was drunk.” Mickey joked. And shit maybe Mickey needed to start taking his own advice for once.

Ian chuckled “It kind of stayed with me, made me realize that i needed to stop playing it so safe or i was going to end up regretting a lot in my life.”

Mickey boldly reached his hand over, sliding his hand into ians warm and waiting one and Ian responded by rubbing his thumb over the top of Mickey's hand. 

“That's how I ended up at NYU, I decided to take a chance on myself, follow my dreams and all that shit.”

Mickey squeezed Ians fingers reassuringly. “Im glad that i could be a part of that.” Mickey said genuinely. for once, sharing his feelings without a grunt or a swear. Felt that he owed it to Ian to open up, just like he had. He also just really wanted to.

They were silent for a little bit after that, just enjoying each other's presence and the comforting feeling of their hands joined together.

-

They had talked the entire ride back home, their voices drowning out the music playing on low volume in the background. Both of them sharing stories about the shitty yet hilarious things their siblings had done when they were growing up. Some just to get by, or in the case of any Milkovich, just to be absolute hellians. 

Mickey hasn't laughed this much in his entire life he thinks, it felt good.

They pulled up to Mickey’s apartment, the glow of the streetlights coming through the windows to make Ians hair look almost golden. Mickey found himself disappointed once again, not wanting to leave just yet but knowing he really needed to.

“Can i have your number?” Ian asked hopefully, eyes wide like a fucking puppy just waiting to be kicked and Mickey just rolled his eyes playful, hand held out waiting for  
Ians phone to plug his number into. 

“What an honour.” Ian grinned at the new contact on his screen. “I got the Mickey Milkovich’s number.”

“Damn right it is, don't go auctioning that shit off.”

“Shit, was really looking forward to the extra money.” Ian teased right back.

Mickey stepped out of Ian's car reluctantly, apples in tow. “Thanks for tonight, I had fun.” Mickey said genuinely through the car window as he shut the passenger door.

Ian was looking at him with that fucking knowing look again and those soft and sweet eyes that made Mickey honest to god melt. “Anytime, Mick.”

-

Mickey made it into his apartment, immediately making his way to his kitchen to prepare all of his ingredients for the morning so he could throw everything together easily. 

As he was wrapping his ceramic bowls of ingredients with plastic wrap his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, Mickey took it out, looking confused and the unknown number flashing on the screen. 

“Hello?” Mickey muddled into the phone. 

“Mickey.” Ian's voice came tenderly through the speaker, making Mickey's chest swell just the slightest bit.  
He doesn't understand it, but in the mere 15 minutes they had been apart, he had missed the other man already. Had missed him the second he stepped out of his honda.

“What? Did I forget something in your car?” 

Ian paused for a second, as if debating on whether to say something or not. 

“Just wanted to make sure you didn't give me a phony number.” Ian said lightly, Mickey imagines Ian smiling when he says it. 

“And i wanted to say goodnight.” Ian says the last part in that quiet and intimate way he had spoken to Mickey in the orchard, making his stomach flutter and his body feel light. 

“Goodnight, Ian.” Mickey said, matching the gentle tone in his voice.

“Goodnight.” 

The single word had Mickey lying awake just a little bit longer than he wanted to, his body high on serotonin. Not for the word itself particularly, just the affection behind it. It had almost felt loving. God, Mickey was a goner and he couldn't bring himself to be upset about it. And sure he’d probably stress about it later, but tonight he didn't want to worry. Just wanted to enjoy his little bubble of happiness without his anxiety coming in to pop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for stopping in again. I really love hearing everyones thoughts so please keep the comments coming. They really motivate me to keep going!
> 
> Roman


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe weddings arent so bad after all.

Sunday Morning, September 13th

When the sound of Mickeys alarm boomed through his and Mandy's apartment, waking him from the best goddamn sleep he’s ever had, for once he didn't want to grab the wretched thing and throw it against one of his many brick walls. He had actually woken up smiling, and Mickey cant remember a single time that has ever happened. 

It’s not that Mickey has never been happy before, because he has. Because he’s successful and he’s doing really well for himself and he’s got a sister and a friend that loves him. But despite all that, its always felt like something was missing, and no matter how much it scares Mickey, it kind of feels like Ian is starting to fill that gap that's been gaping open for as long as he can remember.

“What are you all smiley about?” Mandy asked, watching Mickey as he chopped the apple’s he’d picked the night before, his lips turned up as he hummed along to one of his CD’s he had been playing on the radio. 

“Just excited for Josey, fuck off.” Mickey had tried to say in that tone he normally would. His words not packing the heat that they almost always did.

“Mickey, you hate weddings.” She raised her eyebrows at him, calling him out on his bullshit. Because yeah, weddings made Mickey exceptionally nauseous, with the excessive amounts of flowers, tears, dancing and professions of love. It was all well and good except he felt like somehow everyone was kind of gloating what they had, right in front of him. So Mickey really fucking hated weddings and the way that they never failed to make him feel even more lonely.

“Why d’you gotta fuckin pry into everything.” Mickey grumbled 

“‘Cause i'm your sister asshole, what's going on?'' She took a seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island, grabbing one of the apple slices from Mickey's cutting board and shoving it into her mouth.

Mickey's phone dinged in his pocket and he pulled his phone out to look at the notification, opting for just ignoring his nosey sibling.

Ian: Have fun at your brunch ;)

Mickey's face broke out into a grin, knowing the teasing tone behind the message. He felt his chest begin to fill with that warmth that Mandy momentarily began to drain from him.

Mickey: Fuck right off

“Mickey!” Mandy yelled to get his attention, giving Mickey a pointed look at him and his phone. 

He sighed, knowing she wouldn't give up on asking until he gave her something. Growing up with the shithead he had learned that she never really took no for an answer. One of the traits she had unfortunately picked up from their father.

“I just had a really fucking good day yesterday, alright?” He said, shoving his phone back in his pocket in favor of finishing the pastries and avoiding anymore eye contact with Mandy.

“With Ian?”

Mickey just shrugged, his cheeks doing that stupid thing they do whenever he thinks of the other man. “Just nice to have a friend, i guess.”

“A friend, huh?” Mandy questioned, not buying it at all. 

“Please don't do that.” He stopped mixing the contents in his bowl for a second. “I don't want to think about it too much.” A long deep breath, “Just kinda want to enjoy it, whatever it is.”

Thank fuck that was enough for her, because if he has to spend one more second talking about his feelings, he thinks he might just hurl.

\---

He’s got his F-U-C-K hand wrapped awkwardly around a teacup that has no fucking buisness being that tiny as he chews sloppily on one of his turnovers.   
Mickey understands why people from the southside dont do shit like brunch, because he’s sitting in a room with a large group of women, him being the only male there, as they gossip and giggle and Mickey knows he’s sticking out like a sore thumb. 

Josey's presence makes it a little bit easier, occasionally bringing him into the conversation when she’s not busy chatting privately with the hairdresser that's currently styling her hair into an updo.

Mickey hears a couple of the bridesmaids start a conversation about the men they are seeing at the moment. One of the girls is talking about all the sweet things her boyfriend does for her, which are actually kind of just common decency things Mickey thinks. He finds himself a little annoyed at the praise these men are getting for doing the absolute bare minimum. His mind wanders to Ian for a second, thinks maybe the redhead isn't anything like these men. Definitely a little too cheesy to be compared to the basic guys they continued to flaunt.

He tries to tune out the conversation, looking around the large room filled with pristine white couches and chairs and they have Mickey's turnovers displayed on a shiny gold platter. The place is beautiful, he wouldn't expect any less from Josey. Her having chosen a vineyard for her ceremony. That's where they were now, tucked into a room in one of the few gorgeous houses they had on the property.

“Mickey, honey it's been so long since i've seen you.” The voice of Josephine's grandmother cutting through the heavy chatter to catch his attention. “Have you found yourself a nice boy to settle down with yet?” And okay, Mickey hadn't planned on coming out to a bunch of strangers today but apparently that's happening.

He felt all the eyes in the room turn to him and panic began to form in his gut.   
“Uhm” Mickey paused, his brain struggling to find the proper words to say because, ‘no, but maybe yes’ and ‘i dunno, sort of?’ didn't feel like an acceptable answer.

“Mickey’s seeing someone.” His best friend's voice answers for him. “It’s new, but they're very smitten.”

He felt a lot of emotions rush through him at her words, confusion being the most prominent one. Because he knows that the last time he spoke of Ian to her the two men were just barely acquaintances, with Mickey being very unsure of not only Ian’s feelings, but his own.

“Well i have to meet this young man.” the older woman said to him now. “Is he coming tonight?”

“Uh, no, he won't be at the ceremony.” he replied awkwardly. Even though earlier he had hoped to see the man there, despite not receiving a formal invitation, but now maybe it was for the best. At least Mickey would be able to save himself from even more embarrassment.

“Hey Jos, can i talk to you for a second.” Mickey whispered next to her after making a quick break from the group as they began to chat about other things.

“Of course, darling.” She said sweetly before turning to the hairdresser and asking if she could take a short break.

“What was that back there?” He asked anxiously after stepping out of the room. “I mean, you know me and Ian aren't like dating or anything.” 

“You two are getting pretty close aren't you?” her eyes looked at him, filled with concern that maybe she’d overstepped.

“How do you even know that?” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. The feeling of anxiety seems to multiply rapidly.

“We didn't interview anyone else for Ian’s position.” She said after a long moment and Mickeys not sure what the fuck that has to do with anything.

“What?”

“We originally were not going to do it at all, it was just an idea that got shoved to the side because i knew you wouldn't do it.” And Josephine was definitely right about that, but he was still confused as fuck. 

“But then i got a call from Mandy one day, saying that her friend was looking for some kind of internship.” she pulled Mickey over to one of the spare chairs sitting in the hallway.  
“I brought Ian in for an interview and practically fell in love with him.” 

Mickey’s face twisted at her words. “Not like that.” she let out a soft laugh. “More of the way that he spoke, the way he talked about you.” she looked into Mickey's eyes, so sweet, so genuine. “he spoke about you with so much affection, and i knew that i had to do more for him than just make him an errand boy. So i said fuck it.”

The curse was weird coming out of her mouth, because the woman almost never swore. It made him laugh. “You and Mandy are little shits.”

Honestly, he’s a little shocked at her words. Because he had known that Ian had remembered him from years ago, know that he made a small impression. He had no idea just how much of an imprint he left on him.

Josey just smiled at him. “He really likes you, Mick.” and this time, Mickey thinks she might actually be telling the truth.

\--

Mickey did hate weddings but he had to admit that Joseys was really fucking beautiful, he thought as he looked around from his place at the end of the isle next to the other brides maids in their navy blue dresses that matched the color of his suit. 

He watched as his friend made her way down the aisle, so gracefully, the end of her white dress dragging along the floor behind her and she looked so fucking happy. 

Mickey thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind having something like this one day, maybe not as extravagant and dreamy like something out of a catalog because that wasn’t really his style. But Mickey knows that’s wishful thinking for a man at 26 years old who has barely even kissed someone, much less loved.   
Over the past few weeks though he senses the way his ideas are starting to shift, become just a little bit more positive. He cant pinpoint exactly when it had shifted so drastically, maybe overnight, but he had looked in the mirror not an hour ago and felt fucking good for once, maybe even a little bit sexy. And that certainly wasn't normal for Mickey Milkovich. 

It definitely wasn't normal for him to be smiling at an event like this, as he looked over at his sister in the sea of people, wrapped lovingly around her boyfriend, Eddy. Even as he listened to Arlow and Josey give their vows, saying the most sweet and sappy things he couldn't find himself to be indifferent, or like other times, envious. And even though he was standing alone in that moment, he didn't feel lonely.  
He just felt happy, as they slipped the silver bands onto each other's fingers and shared a lingering kiss that had everyone standing from their chairs to cheer. 

And he would say just that, an hour or so later, as everyone sat under a large tent chatting and eating and celebrating. He stood in front of the lot, hands shaking a bit with nervousness for the speech he was obligated to give. “I'm Mickey, i’ve known the bride for 5 years now.” he said, surprisingly willing himself to sound cool and calm, telling a joke about the woman who signed his check eventually becoming his constant anchor and emotional support. “Josey is always there, lighting up everyone’s day, always.” he looked over at her and god damn it his eyes were starting to water as she sent him a gentle smile. “she’s that nurturing hand, comforting words and encouraging smile that makes you feel like you can take on the world. but she never got back exactly what she gave, until Arlow.” He smiled at the man at her side now. “and he is every bit her perfect half.”

Mickey wrapped up his speech not long after that, Josey jumping up to give him a gripping hug and a kiss to the cheek. “i love you.” she said to him, making his heart swell with adoration as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I love you too” he whispered back to her, bringing her into another hug.

He tried not to dwell on just how sappy and emotional he felt like he was becoming.

—-

He watched from his seat as a majority of the guests danced awfully to the pop music blaring from the speakers. The very act serving as a reminder to why he denied most wedding invites in the first place. Mandy had come up to him, Eddy in tow, to try and coax him from his spot. And of course he had turned her down, earning him the buzzkill label. One he had become so familiar with when it came to doing anything outside of his comfort zone.

He sighed into his beer bottle, the 3rd one he had nursed tonight, as he turned his attention to outside the tent. Noticing the lights stringing over the olive trees, the few rows reminding him of the day he spent with Ian in the orchard just yesterday.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

And god Mickeys never been more okay with someone intruding in on his private time then he was in that moment. looking up at the man standing in front of him now he realizes that he’s actually more than okay with it, realizes how much he’s missed Ian in such a short amount of time.

Mickeys speechless for a second as he looks over at the man, his well chiseled frame covered in a black suit, his slacks and patterned undershirt fitting to his body like a second skin, nearly making Mickey shake just from the sight. And for some reason the simple black tie wrapped around his neck is doing wonders on his current body temperature.

“What the hell are you doing here, Gallagher?” Mickey says and he secretly wishes that Ian can somehow sense how happy he is to see him despite his words. 

“A certain woman in white texted me earlier saying that her maid of honor would need some company tonight.” Ian pulled out the chair next to him at the round table and sat, scooting it just a little bit closer like Mickey had grown accustomed to.

But now the movements seemed to have more meaning, as he thought back to the conversation he had with Josey just hours ago. About how Ian had talked of him adoringly about how Ian had liked him. and not just in that, ‘Hey i think you’re cool, let’s be friends’ kind of way. She had meant it romantically. And he still had a hard time fully wrapping his head around that thought, about how someone so confident, and sweet and beautiful like Ian Gallagher could like someone like him. Someone so rough around the edges no matter how much you got to know him.

“Sorry i’m late.” He said, his tone so soft. And he must have paused to think for too long because Ian had broken the silence again. “I like the suit, makes your eyes look extra blue.” and then their eyes were locking for a moment that felt like it could've been 2 seconds or 2 years.  
“You’re blushing.” Ian spoke again, this time in a whisper.

“Fuck you.” Mickey laughs, moving his hand from where it was gripping at his cool beer bottle to rub at his cheek to hide and hopefully alleviate some of the redness forming there.

“I guess you clean up pretty well.”   
He’s well aware that this is the first compliment he’s given Ian, despite having thought of at least a million. And he’s definitely hoping it doesn’t go to the man's head, knowing that means he’ll just get teased for it. Not that he really minds Ian's teasing, in fact it makes him a little giddy.  
“As I live and breathe, is that an actual complement?” Ian gasped obnoxiously. And of course Mickey had called it. “from Mickey Milkovich himself?”  
“Yeah, yeah, don’t make it a fuckin thing.” Mickey spoke through a smile, his thumb coming to scratch at the side of his mouth to mask it.

“This tie?” Ian tugged at the tie around his neck. “Safety pinned into place. I could not figure out how to tie the fucking thing. Fucker nearly ended up down the garbage disposal.”

Mickey moved his chair even closer to Ian now, one of his knees between the v of Ian’s spread legs - not quite touching but feeling the heat radiating there - as he reached for Ian's tie, turning it over in his hands to take the safety pin from the back. 

“What’s wrong with a good old fashioned trash can.” He tried to make casual conversation as to not get too flustered with how close the two were, with Mickey fixing the knot in Ian’s tie to something a little more presentable.

“Too easy.” he let out something akin to a dramatic sigh. “With the amount of hell this thing has put me through.” 

Mickey felt his lip quirk up. “You sound real torn up.” he said sarcastically. “Maybe fire would be more suitable for next time.” he tightened the knot finally and moved his hand to straighten out the collar around it.

When Ian had not responded Mickey had turned his attention to the other man's face, his hand moving to smooth out the tie along his chest, finding the man just looking at him intently. His eyes moving all over his face, stopping to linger on his lips for a prolonged moment. Mickey felt the familiar flutters fill his gut.

“Dance with me?” he asked gently, his eyes drifting easily from his lips to land on his eyes.

“I don’t dance.” even though everything in him wished that he did.

“i’ll do all the work.” Ian smiles at him, a bit of a plea showing through the small upturn of his lips. 

And Mickey can’t find it in himself to turn Ian down. So he just stands and holds out his hand for Ian to take. “Just this once. Then we never speak of it again.”

Ian’s standing with the goofiest grin on his face as he walks with Mickey to the dance floor made of linked white tiles that lay on top of green plush grass. The song changes from something Mickey is sure was on the top 20 or something in 2011 to something slower paced and he stops in his tracks.

“man, what the fuck.” He said, more to himself than anyone else.

And Ian lets out a full bellied laugh. “i may’ov ran into Mandy on my way in.'' Mickey gave him an unamused look. “and i maybe asked her about your music preferences.” 

“Gotta say, didn’t take you for the Patrick Swayze fan.” Ian spoke again with that teasing grin.  
Mickey rolled his eyes and shoved at the man's shoulder gently. “shut the fuck up, you dick.” 

The sound of unchained melody playing loudly through the speakers, because yeah fuck you ‘ghost’ was one of Mickeys favorite goddamn movies. Shut up about it.

“Come here.” Ian said playfully, grabbing Mickey by the arm to pull him close to his chest and he just followed willingly. His arms moving to the taller man's sides, not really knowing where else to put them. 

Ian, unhappy with the bit of distance still between them, wrapped his arms tightly around Mickey's waist, pulling him in until his chin rested at the top of Mickey's head. 

Mickey felt his body relax into Ian’s, his head moving to lay on his strong shoulder as he closed his eyes and just swayed along with Ian. Mickey can’t remember a time we he felt this fucking safe and happy simultaneously, the gentle rise and fall of Ian’s chest against his feeling better than anything he’s ever experienced in his life so far. And it sounds kind of sappy in his head, he knows. But it also feels like the honest to god truth. Mickey would swear it, with his hand on a bible (despite not being a religious man) in front of a judge and a jury. He would swear that Ian made his heart race, and his hands sweat, and his cheeks ache from smiling.

Mickey felt disappointed as the song came to an end, the room filling with that obnoxious pop music again but he still didn’t pull away. They just stood there swaying, the rhythm of their movements not at all matching the tune. 

“Mickey, honey.” a familiar voice popped their little intimate bubble, causing Mickey to reluctantly lift his head and look over at the aged yet still remarkably beautiful face that was Josephine's grandmother. “Sherry,” he greeted the shorter woman, his brain in a somewhat hazy state. Like he was high off Ians smell and touch alone. He  
pulled away from Ian to turn and face the woman, Ians hand refusing to leave his body though as it remained on his waist.

“I thought your boyfriend wasn’t coming tonight.”

Fuck fuck fuck. He felt like he was just thrown into a pool of ice water, his body going rigid and his mind racing with panicked thoughts, not one proving to be helpful in the situation. 

“He’s not- well he-” God why can’t he just form a full fucking thought, just one simple sentence to save his ass in front of Ian and this fucking woman who may have just unintentionally ruined his night with one string of words. 

“I didn’t think i’d be able to make it.” Ian cut in and Mickey found himself being saved for the second time that day. “I had some obligations with school i couldn’t get out of, but they ended earlier than i thought-“

“i gotta go to the bathroom.” Mickey said nauseously, turning to walk away from the pair. He heard Ian begin to say something to him but then Sherry was asking him some question Mickey couldn't care less about, which allowed him to make his quick exit.

No, he hadn’t really had to go to the bathroom, he really just needed to get out of there before he embarrassed himself further. didn’t want to be there as Ian covered for him. Felt embarrassed that Ian now probably thought Mickey had been going around gloating about his new boyfriend, when in actuality the two men had barely even made it past the weird maybe acquaintance, maybe friend, maybe possible mutual crushes stage.

Ian -

Mickey was sitting on the steps of a gazebo, one that was nestled between some of the rows, just out of sight from the large outdoor tent. His hands resting on his knees, cigarette burning between two of his fingers as rain began to fall and splash the ends of his dress shoes, when Ian had finally spotted him.

It had taken him close to 15 minutes to find him after he had made his rushed exit from him and the woman he found out to be the grandmother of the bride. Ian had been a little shocked to meet the woman, but happy nonetheless.

Because the woman had given away something Mickey would have never told him himself.

That he had talked about him to other people, potentially as someone more than just his friend and that thought alone made Ian so incredibly fucking happy.

He took a seat next to Mickey, rain pattering down on his shoes now too, soaking through to his socks little by little. Ian knows he’d ruin a million pairs of socks and shoes, no matter how expensive, just to sit next to Mickey, though.

“You didn’t have to do that.”  
Mickey muttered, hand flicking the ash from his cigarette before bringing it to his lips and taking a long drag. he hadn’t known that Mickey smoked before this, the fact not bothering him in the least bit because it was a habit he’d picked up living his early years in the southside as well.

Ian stayed silent, just taking in the soft splatter of the rain, the smell of it mixed with the cigarette burning away between Mickey tattooed fingers. Those harsh words scarred into his flesh that Ian found himself constantly wanting to kiss. 

“Can you fucking say something?” Mickey says again, a little irritated but mostly nervous.

Mickey looked beautiful, he thought, the twinkling lights of the gazebo making him almost glow amongst all the darkness surrounding them. He notices Mickey's tie and suit jacket resting next to him, his undershirt now rolled up to his elbows, the dark hair on his forearms looking soft to the touch.  
“I talk about you too, yknow.” Ian states, his knee knocking into a navy blue clad leg. Because Ian just knows how anxious Mickey is, had felt it in his body the second the older woman had spoken to him, had heard it in his voice before practically running away from the pair.

Mickey stayed quiet next to him, waiting for him to continue.

“I mean, from the day I ran into Mandy over a month ago I've talked about you almost every day.” Ian laughs at himself over the confession, sure that he’s embarrassing himself but also really hoping he’s getting his point across. 

“I keep waiting on her to tell me ‘shut the fuck up already.’ but she doesn’t.”

It’s quiet for a moment again, Ian knows Mickeys just thinking, because he’s got that focused look on his face that he’d seen the first day he’d seen him in the break room. The same face he’d had when Ian had pulled up to Mickey's apartment the night before. The same look causing Ian to seriously consider kissing him goodnight.

“I missed you today.” Mickey says finally, so, so quiet.

“Yeah?” Ian says with the same amount of gentleness.

“Yeah.”

And Mickey is just looking at him now, his face unsure but also pink with something Ian hopes is longing and Ian can’t hold himself back anymore when he speaks.

“Have you ever been kissed, mick?” Ian asks gently, his eyes scanning Mickey's face for any sign that he’s overstepping. 

Mickey glances away for just a second, hips shifting to face Ian just the slightest. He looked nervous, unsure still.   
Ian thinks he knows the answer, he’s not entirely sure why he asked it in the first place, except that he’s leaning over onto his knees, closer to Mickey. so slow, as to not startle him. 

“You making fun of me?” he says, his blue eyes meeting Ian's again for a long quiet moment. 

He knows the Mickeys going into defensive mode, knows he’s probably going through some crazy bad scenario in his head because Mandy had warned him about it. had told him that reassurance was probably something he’d have to give the other man on a daily basis. Ian didn’t have a problem with it.

“No, just curious.” Ian tried to portray as much genuineness into his eyes as he possibly could.

And there, right fucking there. Blue eyes glance down to his lips and Ian had a feeling he wasn’t misreading everything that had gone on between them. All the touches, and glances and flirting hasn't all been some delusion.

Mickey was leaning forward now, making Ian's heart pound in his chest, hot breath mixing just the slightest between them as Mickey's eyes slowly started to flutter shut.  
And they’re so fucking close and it makes Ian want to just grab him by the neck and nip at his lips.  
“Wait.” Ian whispers softly, their lips less than an inch apart and Mickey lets out something similar to a whine that goes straight to Ian's cock. 

It takes a second for Ian's words to register with Mickey before he’s pulling back quickly, his body tightening up with defensiveness and worry.   
“I’m going to do something really fucking corny and i want you to swear not to punch me for it.” Ian speaks and Mickey visibly relaxes a little bit.   
“If you know im not going to like it, dont fuckin do it.”   
“Think you might kinda want me to.” And Ian trains his voice to go a little lower with the sentence, earning him a lip bite from the other man, which yanks all of the patience right out of his body.  
So instead of sitting there longer, giving Mickey the chance to freak out and leave him, he’s standing from his spot On the steps and pulling Mickey into the rain with him.  
“Man, what the fuck.” Mickey says more shocked than anything, his black hair immediately soaking to become impossibly dark.  
“It’s your first kiss, might as well make it a memorable one.” Ian says with a grin. and he knows it’s cliche as shit, knows that maybe he’ll regret not staying under the little roof to go back to the reception dry and content.

Ian knows that maybe all of the confidence he has right now with Mickey is probably fueled off of pure adrenaline that he has gotten simply from being close to the other. But he moves his hand to Mickey's cheek anyway, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips, and it’s not much. just a gentle press for about 3 seconds before he pulls away and just presses his wet forehead to Mickeys. because Ian remembers how nervous he was for his first kiss, nervous that he wouldn’t know what to do and that maybe the other would expect more of them. so he keeps it short and sweet for Mickey, because he understands.

And even though it’s not much, it feels like everything. Like Christmas eve or a warm latte on a cool fall day or the beginning of spring walking through central park. All the things that make Ian feel so fucking full of joy.

Mickey seems to be feeling a little bit of that same courage Ian was himself as he leans up to press his lips against Ian’s again, with a little more pressure before and it’s a little messy at first. And Mickey’s got his hands on his shoulders, using them to pull himself up on his toes and god thats so fucking cute.

It takes a minute for their movements to line up but soon they’re in sync and it’s fucking beautiful. 

Mickey's hand moves to Ian's chest, not pushing, just touching as they kiss. He thinks maybe he can feel Ians pounding heartbeat there. 

Ian’s smiling into it because it just feels so fucking good, he can’t stop himself from running his tongue along the bottom of Mickeys mouth causing a gasps to enter into Ian’s mouth with the contact. 

Ian’s hands grip at Mickey’s hip, the softness he loves so fucking much and fuck he needs to pull away right fucking now or he’ll be driving back to home sporting the worst hard on he thinks he’ll ever experience. So he pulls back and he just breathes for a minute, thumb brushing Mickeys cheek and fuck Mickeys leaning in again and Ian tries not to get so turned on at how much he wants it.

“Can i drive you home?” he whispers in the small space that divides them and Mickey just nods, brushes his lips against Ians again. He doesnt speak for a little bit after that and Ian really fucking gets it. Because he's almost at a loss for words too.

\---

Its a little less that an hour drive back to Mickey’s apartment, and about 5 minutes in Mickeys letting out these cute ass fucking yawns that have Ian wanting to just curl up in a ball with him.

Mickey's got Ians hand held between both of his as they rest in his lap. The other man's eyes are closed, sleeping with his lips parted letting out quiet little puffs of air. 

Ian feels his heart swell at the idea that Mickey is comfortable enough to do this. To just relax completely and fall asleep in his car. Ian makes sure to keep the music soft and at a low volume the entire ride, not wanting to wake him from his peaceful state.

It’s too soon before Ian pulls up to the familiar apartment, waking Mickey from his nap as he opens the passenger door to rub at his shoulder and coax his eyes to open. It takes Mickey a few minutes to wake up as he walks him into the building, helping him find his entry card for the apartment building and swiping it for him.

Ian’s a little disappointed when they make it up the four flights of stairs to Mickey's front door. Except Mickeys looking at him like he doesn’t want him to leave either. 

Then he’s leaning again, unable to stop himself when Mickey’s standing right in front of him looking so enticing. His lips hovered just above his, Mickey's hand resting on the door knob behind him.   
“I should probably get going, I've got class in the morning.” Ian says not too confidently. It hadn't been a lie but it had almost been an excuse. Because Ian feels like he’s so close to losing control over himself. The last thing he wants to do is go too far, too soon. He doesn't want to do anything to screw this up.   
Mickey nods at his statement. “You’re free to go.” He says leaning even closer into Ians space, his eyes are saying otherwise. The look starting a fire in Ians belly.  
“Mick.” Ian let out in a whisper, his eyes focusing in on Mickey's lips that were so very, very close to his own. “you’re making it really hard for me to say goodnight right now.”   
Mickey doesn't respond to that, just moves his hand to rest on Ian’s chest, his eyes moving with it. Ian’s sure that Mickey can feel his heart now, his palm pressing in as Mickey shuts his eyes for just a second as if he’s just focusing and feeling. His hand moving ever so slowly to Ian's shoulder, squeezing the muscle close to his neck and Ian let out a breath at that. it moved to his exposed neck.   
Mickey leaned forward and brushed his lips there. just barely putting pressure to the area. And Ian felt every ounce of willpower to leave exit his body.   
“Mickey.” Ian's voice came out hoarse now, his hands moving to Mickey's waist, pulling his body just a little bit closer. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Mickey bit his plump lip again before he finally spoke.  
“If you’re tired or really need to go just say fuck no but do you want to come in for some coffee?” 

Ian can’t recall a time that he’s ever drunk coffee after midnight but right now it sounds like something he’d definitely be interested in.  
So naturally he accepts, doing his best not to look too eager as they find their way to the large kitchen. 

Ian takes a minute to look around Mickey’s living room as Mickey takes a minute to shoot off a few texts to his sister Ian presumes.

Ian thinks his apartment has a lot of charm. Mostly because he could tell that all the art and decorative items were all Mickey's own personal touch. Including the prickly porcupine cookie jar he has sitting on his island, Ian thinks it's all too accurate for the man.

Mickey puts on a pot as Ian looks around the area, spotting an old radio at the far end of the counter. 

He sees the switch shifted to CD and presses play. 

Foreigner fills the silent room and Ian can’t help but let out a laugh. “80’s power ballads, really?”  
Mickey shoves at his chest playfully. “it’s classic rock, asshole.” 

His hands don’t move from their place, his eyes going from teasing to soft as they look into Ian's green ones. And Ian really should have guessed that there wasn't going to be much coffee drinking going on tonight.

“i’m gonna kiss you now.” Ian speaks in almost a whisper, his hands moving to Mickey's hips and the other man just nods, eyes fluttering closed as he pushes closer once again. Ian thinks he’s being spoiled with all the contact, is indefinitely becoming addicted to it very quickly.

The kiss is more heated than the last, Ian going in with more intensity, pushing his tongue past Mickey's lips to rub against the others. And Mickey just eggs him on, pushing closer to Ian, gripping at the shoulders of his shirt as if he could close any more distance between the two and when Ian nips at his bottom lip, brings it into his mouth to suck, Mickey fucking moans.

It's the hottest thing Ian swears he’s ever heard. He can’t help but push Mickey against the counter and slide between his legs, he moves willingly, hoisting himself up on the counter with his hands and pulling Ian into him again. 

Mickeys really into this, as he wraps his legs around Ian’s waist and pulls their hips flush together. Ian can feel how hard Mickey is through his jeans and its making Ian want to devour him. 

When their hard cocks finally make contact through the fabric of their jeans, Mickey just panting with it. His mouth just dropping open again Ians at the new pressure there.  
It’s like he’s lost all function, just open mouthed breathing, almost a gasp as he rubs again Ian experimentally. 

The feeling is way, way too good, and yet Ian wouldn’t dare tell him to stop before he comes too soon because Mickey looks so fucking sexy like this. His hands gripping at any fabric on Ian's body he can get a good grip on, his hips moving slow, doing whatever makes him feel good and Ian can tell he’s feeling really, really good. his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s letting out these heavy breaths on every downward shift of his hips.

Ian's brain is so clouded with lust, his voice coming out raspy. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Mickey's hips stutter at his words, almost like the words themselves almost sent him over the edge. “I feel really-“ and now Mickey's gripping onto Ian for dear life because Ian's rolling his hips in time with him and it’s nearly impossible for him to finish a thought. “really good.”

Mickeys letting out these amazing little noises now and all Ian wants to do is hear more and more of them. So now he’s grinding his hips harder and faster and Mickey's gripping at the counter desperately with one hand, knuckles white. And there’s really only one thing on Ian's mind right now and that’s seeing Mickey come, hopefully with his name on his plump lips. 

“Can i suck you off?” Ian asks hopefully, wanting so much to get his mouth on his cock.

Ian really needs to keep a log of all of Mickey Milkovich's noises because they just keep getting better and better. 

“Please” Mickey pleads between pants.

Ian really doesn’t need to hear more as he pulls Mickey from the counter and pushes him into the living space.

It doesn't take long for Ian to get Mickey seated on the couch with his pants pushed down around his thick thighs, the thighs that had drawn his attention without fail every time he saw him. He bends down to nip at them. Taking a minute to suck at the flesh there. He hears Mickey’s breath quicken a little with excitement.

“Wait.” Mickey says with hesitation. Ian stops immediately, bringing his eyes up to  
meet his. 

“Are you okay?”

Mickey groans and throws his head back against the couch.   
“Yes, i just-“ he brings his palms up to rub at his eyes. “i dont know.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Ian says reassuringly, bringing himself up to sit next to Mickey on the couch. He’s scared that he had pushed Mickey, the way he had tried so hard not to do just standing outside his apartment a short time ago.

“I want to.” he says, Ian can tell he’s embarrassed. “I just don’t know if i’m ready for” He gestures to the floor and his lap “This.”

“The balls in your court.” Ian says and he tries to pour all the affection he can into it so that Mickey knows he means it, that there’s no pressure. 

“Can you lay down?” Mickey hesitantly asks and Ian just does as he’s told, stretching his body across the couch, head resting on a pillow after Mickey stands from his spot. then Mickeys sliding a leg over Ian’s waist to straddle him and fuck yeah, Ian can work with this.

“You can say no too, yknow.” and Ian really fucking adores this man, more than he thought he could. 

“I’m definitely okay with this.” He reassures, his hands moving to rest on his hips.

And then Mickeys connecting their hips again, rubbing himself against Ian in the most sinful way. Ian knows immediately that he’s not going to last long. Has been teetering on the edge now for a long time. 

With everything in him, he staves it off. Focusing on making Mickey come first. But it seems like Mickey isn't too far off either. He’s got his hands pressed into Ian’s chest to hold himself steady as he rocks his hips downward, his lips parted again, letting out heavy breaths.

A moan escapes those parted lips on a particularly hard stroke and Ian sits up, not being able to take it without the maximum amount of contact anymore. He moves his hand to Mickey's back, one resting between his shoulder blades, the other on his lower back as he pulls his gasping lips into a kiss. The gentleness of it matching the slow rhythmic movements of Mickey's hips.

He whines into Ians mouth as Ian uses his hands to help aid Mickey’s movements.   
“Ian” Mickeys pleasure changing his voice, causing it to come out a littler higher pitched than normal and it drives Ian fucking mad. 

“Fuck, fuck” Ian gasps as well, feeling his orgasm building uncontrollably. 

And then Mickey’s hips are moving frantically, their lips touching but not really invested in the kiss anymore as they just pant. 

“Gonna come.” Ian warns, his hand moving to grip onto Mickey’s ass and give it a firm squeeze and then Mickey's shaking and gasping, his hands gripping into Ians hair as he comes, a strangled noise leaving his throat. 

The stuttering of his hips and the sounds leaving his mouth is just enough to finally tip Ian over the edge, his orgasm hitting him like a semi truck as he buries his head into Mickey’s neck, biting down there not quite hard enough to leave a mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and i hope you guys like it as much as i do. also thank you so so much for all the sweet comments! 
> 
> I also recommend listening to unchained melody either during or after reading, it really sets the romantic mood i think. 
> 
> Roman


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian meets a few new friends.

Monday Morning, September 14th

Mickey had replayed the events of just hours ago over in his head at least four times now. The memory bringing a smile to his lips, how they had came together so beautifully, physically and spiritually, as stupid as it sounds. He’d cringe at himself for just thinking it if he weren't so high off of Ians smell and warmth. Mickey had woken up with the intense urge to take a piss, realizing that the two men had passed out together on the narrow cushions of the couch. He came back after relieving himself and pulling on a fresh pair of boxers, the ones he had fallen asleep in having dried come crusted to them by now. He also managed to finally slip out of his dress shirt, pulling on a more comfortable t-shirt instead. 

He had given Ian a small shake, coaxing him awake before speaking to him softly to come to his bed. 

That was kind of a big deal for Mickey, never having had something equivalent to a sleepover as a child, much less asked a guy to stay after they had orgasmed together. In fact, 95% of the time Mickey didn't even bring guys back to his place. It only happened a couple of times when he was really too drunk to even remember it.

And sure he could’ve asked Ian to leave, like he had so easily with men before him. But he didn't want to. The idea of shaking awake a peaceful Ian, solely to tell him to grab his pants off the floor and hit the road, was nothing short of unsettling.

So he grabbed a groggy Ian’s hand and led him into his room, helping him remove the suit jacket he had managed to keep on the whole night. Before long they had curled up together under Mickey's covers in their boxers and undershirts. Mickey’s never done that before either, cuddled, never been wrapped up in a mans arms as they rubbed at his back with the tips of their fingers, lulling Mickey’s eyes closed. It shocked Mickey just how quickly he had fallen asleep on the other man's chest, his heart beat putting him at ease along with the slow movements of his fingers against his back and sides. 

That's where he stayed, Ians arm curled around him on either side, holding him close as if he’d slip away from him in the night. Mickey could feel the little puffs of air on the top of his head as the man slept, his mouth open where occasionally a little snore would escape. Despite the noise startling him the first few times in the late hours of the night, Mickey found that he didn't really mind them, he almost found them endearing.

The sound of the front door opening and closing way too fucking loud woke him up for what must have been the fifth time this morning and Mickey felt nervousness and dread wash through his body for a moment. It washing away almost immediately when Ian’s fingers began to rub at his back like they had the night before.

“Mickey” He heard his sister shout from outside his bedroom.

“Fuck.” Mickey grumbled rolling over to look at the clock on his side table. 

“shit, what time is it?” Ian stirred next to him, his arm tightening around Mickey to try and bring him back to his chest. 

“Almost seven, way too fucking early.” He said grumpily, having never been a morning person. Although he had to say, this was probably the best morning he’s ever had. 

“What time’s your class?” Mickey asked, his hand moving to brush the ginger hair falling into the man's eyes. 

“Not til nine.” he smiled, grabbing Mickey's hand and bringing it to his lips to give the knuckles a kiss, then pulling to kiss at his wrist, and slowly up his arm as he began to pull Mickey back into him.

The sound of pounding interrupted their moment, right when Mickey was about to lean over and give Ian a short kiss. Because fuck morning breath, he had to make sure this shit was really happening to him. Had to make sure it wasn't some long ass wet dream he had yet to wake up from. 

“Hey asshole, you awake in there?” Mandy's voice came from the other side of his bedroom door. And he really wishes she would catch the hint that he was sleeping, (despite being very much awake) and fuck off.

“Give me a fuckin minute.” He called back through the door before she decided to say fuck it and barge in univited to his room and see him curled up with her best friend in bed. And maybe that's what she had wanted from the start, but Mickey wasn't ready to explain, wasn't even sure what he should say in this situation.

“Wait here for a few, okay?” Mickey asked softly, hoping that Mandy couldn't hear him talking from wherever she was outside. Ian gave a short nod, rubbing at his sleep ridden eyes. “Bathroom?”

Mickey gave him a nod towards the connecting bathroom in his master bedroom before slipping out the door, making sure to close it behind him.

“About fucking time.” Mandy was standing in the kitchen with her boyfriend Eddy, cup of coffee in her hand. And she looked like shit, Mickey though amused at the sight of his sister in an oversized shirt and sweatpants that definitely belonged to her boyfriend, mascara smeared under her eyes and hair thrown up into a messy ponytail. Her dress from the night before laying on the counter.  
Mickey gave a nod to Eddy as a greeting before taking a seat at the kitchen island.

“We didn't see you leave last night, but i'm pretty sure we both blacked out at some point.” Eddy jokes, leaning against the counter next to his sister. “You should’ve told us you were leaving though, we could’ve ubered with you.”

“Didn't uber.” Mickey mumbled, grabbing Mandy's coffee cup to take a sip from it. His mind flashing back to the car ride the night before and how he had slept through it, the warmth of Ian’s hand putting him to sleep for the first time that night. The second time being the best and freshest in his mind. He thanked god that Mandy had stayed at Eddy’s last night, or else maybe his night would’ve been ruined, Ian going home to sleep before his class in the morning like he had originally planned.

“Get your own shithead.” She snatched her cup back from him, shaking him from his thoughts before speaking again.   
“Anyways I came to change and ask you if you wanted to get breakfast with us. Need some grease to cure this hango-.” Her sentence trailing off before she finished as the sound of his bedroom door opening behind him interrupted her.

He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, taking a deep breath and hoping that maybe they wouldn't say anything about it. Because wouldnt that be a fucking myracle. 

“Ian.” Mandy said surprised, something akin to a smirk forming on her lips. Before she turned her face back to Mickey. “He sleep here last night?” She whispered to him as Ian took the seat next to Mickey as Ian greeted his sibling.

“I don't think we’ve met.” Eddy's voice cut in. 

And jesus fucking christ. “Eddy this is uh.” Mickey prayed for Ian to save him like he did the night before but it didn't come, everyone just kept their eyes on Mickey, waiting patiently for his response. “My friend, Ian. Ian, this is Mandy’s boyfriend Eddy.”   
The room stayed silent after Mickey had spoke, his sister's visible excitement deflating.  
And Ian wasn't looking at him now, wasn't really smiling anymore, just nodding with a grim look on his face. “Nice to meet you Eddy.” He said shortly, sending him a quick wave.

“Likewise.” Eddy said back, his tone not as chipper as normal as if he’d read the room and knew the exact situation.

Then Ian was standing from his chair refusing to look at Mickey, and he felt his heart clench in a way that really fucking stung and he realized that by trying to save his ass from embarrassment he had hurt Ian in the process. 

“I'm gonna go grab my jacket, gotta get home to shower before class.” 

Mickey didn't really have much time to stop him as he made his quick exit into Mickey's room to grab his discarded clothes. Not that Mickey would even know what to say in that very moment. Because Mickey really wasn't sure what was going on, wasn't sure if last night was a one time thing or maybe just something casual starting between the two. Because surely Ian had slept with plenty of men, had stayed over at their houses and kept them company. ‘Cause he was charming, and sexy and all around fucking beautiful, and he wasnt sure what would happen if he had called Ian his boyfriend just now. 

They hadn't talked about it at all the night before, too blissed out on that post orgasm haze to have a serious conversation of what they were to each other. What the intimate kisses and hours they spent wrapped up in eachother had meant for them.

“Jesus fuck Mickey, are you joking?” Mandy said annoyed at him after Ian was out of earshot. Looking at Mickey with clear disappointment on her face.

“Can you just fucking stay out of it for once.” Mickey said harshly. “Go to breakfast, I need to do this on my own.” He said standing to make his way into his bedroom. Just hoping that Ian wont be too angry to talk to him.

When he entered the room Ian still wouldn't look at him.

“Ian, I'm sorry.” Mickey started, watching Ian as he slid his slacks on that Mickey had left folded for him on the side table, an unfortunate come stain still visible on the front of his pants and boxers. Mickey thinks he really needs to offer Ian a clean pair if they get through this civilly.

“Is that how you really see me?” Ian asks, hurt clear in his voice. “Just a friend?”

Mickey stayed silent, racking his brain for the right thing to say. But Mickey was never good at that, never good at finding the right words, especially when it came to his feelings and talking about the things that he wanted. But he wanted Ian, so fucking much that is almost hurt.

“Mickey for fuck sake i could never be just friends with you.” he let out, frustration clear in every word. “I thought maybe at first i could, that it was better than not having you at all but then last night happened and i can't go back after that.” Mickey could tell he was trying to hold back the tears that were brimming in his eyes, more out of anger maybe than sadness.

“Do you know how hard it is to look at you everyday and not just throw you against the wall and kiss the shit out of you?” he raked his hand through his hair now, threatening to rip it out just to get his point across on how serious he was about his feelings. “do you even know how gorgeous you are? i mean not even just how you look, you’re the most complex person i’ve ever met. i came into this knowing that i liked you, that i admired you but i never expected to love you the way that i do. and i do love you Mickey, even back then and if you’d just give me a chance-“

“stop” It took Mickey a few seconds to process what he was saying, to process the fact that Ian had just said he loved him. And Mickey never heard that in anything more than a sibling or platonic kind of way and it's making him dizzy, making his vision go all blurry. Mickey still can't get his head around what Ian even saw in him now, much less back then.  
“I just” Mickey heard his voice trembling as he spoke, forcing himself to take a breath. “I wasn't sure how you felt, I didn't want to assume anything.”

Ians eyes softened at that as he took a few steps towards Mickey. “Last night meant everything to me.” he spoke so soft, so genuinely and it made Mickey’s eyes start to water himself. 

Mickey grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him close so that he could hide in his shoulder, hoping Ian couldn't feel the few tears soaking into his shirt. Ian wrapped his arms around him tightly, his body relaxing into Mickeys as he rubbed as his back in slow circular motions. 

“Im not fucking crying.” Mickey protested as Ian pulled back a little to wipe the tears from his under eyes. 

“Okay, toughguy.” Ian said, the smallest smile making its way back onto his lips. 

“Thats boyfriend to you, bitch.” Mickey said, a bit of playfulness cutting through to lighten the mood. A giddy laugh making its way out through his lips as well.  
Ian grinned at that and he seemed so relieved. Mickey wishes he had just taken the chance and said that from the beginning. “Boyfriend, huh? I can work with that.”

\---

Mickey found himself fucking humming in the shower. All of his favorite classic rock love songs sounding so much better to him now. He had said goodbye to Ian about 15 minutes ago, with a soft kiss and a promise to call when his class had ended and Mickey had hated to see him go, but knew it wasn't his place to ask him to stay.

After spending much longer than usual just enjoying the warm feeling of the water hitting his back, giving him flashes of his first real kiss. The one where Ian had pulled him into the rain and held him so fucking close, had been so patient with Mickey as he learned how to find his rhythm. He was so grateful for it, the thoughtfulness alone making Mickey want the man in so many ways. 

Mickey eventually made it out of the shower, once the water started to turn cold and wake him from his daydreaming. Pulling on his sweatpants and tank top, planning on doing absolutely nothing until Ian called him, hopefully to say that he wanted to see him again tonight.

“Took ya long enough.” Mickey heard the familiar voice greet him as he opened the door connecting the bathroom to his bedroom. A grin spreading from cheek to cheek before he could tame it as he saw the other man sitting on his bed waiting.

“Fucker.” Mickey laughed, walking over and grabbing Ian by the t shirt he had borrowed from Mickey after he had shoved Ian into the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes and told him to shower. Ian had suggestively asked Mickey to join him, which the man regretfully declined. 

“Aren't you supposed to be in class?” Mickey asked playfully as his lips hovered meer centimeters from Ians, his eyebrows raising high as he looked at him with that teasing grin.  
“Mmm.” Ian hummed, brushing his lips against Mickeys, his hand resting on his hips momentarily before dragging up his body slowly. 

“I got halfway to my car and realized I was feeling really sick.” Ian said with fake seriousness before moving his mouth to Mickey's neck, his lips brushing over the skin there lightly, sending shivers through Mickey's entire body. 

“You poor thing.” Mickey squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of Ians soft lips against his skin. 

“You gonna make me feel better?” Ian mumbled against Mickey's neck and he couldn't help but laugh at it. 

Mickey moved his hands to Ian's hair, using it as leverage to pull him back and look at him. “We’re not doing that roleplay shit.” Mickey said, tugging at his hair teasingly. And Mickey was feeling really brave this morning, confidence setting in in a way that he definitely wasn't used to yet. “I will suck your dick though.”

Ians playful grin dropped for a second, his mouth falling open a little as his cheeks reddened. “Are you fucking with me- shit.” Mickey dropped to his knees in front of Ian, the bed being the perfect height as Mickey began to untie the string of Ians borrowed sweatpants. Mickey felt proud of himself, of the way he had managed to get Ian flustered, it made him feel wanted, desired in a way noone has ever made him feel before

Mickey's eyes made contact with Ian's impossibly green ones as he tugged the sweats from underneath him. the other man's eyes filled with excitement, and wander even. and it made Mickey stir in his boxers, just the thought that he had this kind of effect on Ian.

He nosed at Ian through his boxers feeling him start to fill out quickly under his touch. “you don’t know how many times i’ve thought about this.” Ian starts to babble and of course Ian has thought about him. It makes sense for you to think about having sex with someone you love. it shocks Mickey anyway, gets him thinking about all the things Ian imagines in his head.

Mickey wants to ask him all of the things he’s fantasied about, wants to know what he thinks about when Ian imagines the two having sex. because Mickeys not a stranger to the act itself. he’s fucked guys, sucks a few dicks briefly in his life but he’s never done it with someone he cares about, with someone who loves him for fuck sake. so when it comes to sex with Ian, Mickey isn’t quite sure what to expect.

Mickey tugs at Ian’s boxers, the man lifting his hips this time to assist him eagerly and Mickey has to bite down in his lip to keep his mouth from dropping open at the sight of Ian’s long and hard cock, much bigger than he had gaged grinding against him the night before or simply cuddling in their boxers. Mickeys not sure how the hell the man was hiding just how much he was packing.

“Holy shit.” Mickey whispers to himself, watching as a bead of precum leaks from the tip, he looks up to Ian and sees his face flushed as he watches Mickey admire his cock. he keeps his eyes on Ian as he reaches his hand up to wrap around the long shaft loosely, stroking its length experimentally, watching as Ian takes a long deep breath, his eyes fluttering a little with the contact.

Mickey uses his hand to guide the tip of his cock to his tongue, lapping up the bit of come that had leaked out. his other hand moving to rest as Ian’s hips, just giving him that little bit of extra contact. he heard Ian’s gentle gasp at the simple contact, egging Mickey on as he took the whole tip between his lips giving it a long suck before using his tongue to circle the tip, once, twice, before moving his tongue down to rub at the vein just under the head. 

Ian gasped loudly at that, his hand moving quickly to the back of Mickey's head just to hold onto something, his fingers lacing through the short hair there but not quite tugging. “Christ Mickey. That feels so fucking good.” Ian swore between pants.

The praise itself causing Mickeys sweats to tent even more so than they already were, it sending a pulse of pleasure down his spine and fuck Mickey didn’t know that was a thing that would effect him so much. But even the night before he had loved hearing Ian tell him how good he was doing, telling him that he was making him feel good and looked hot while doing it.

He slid his lips down Ian’s shaft, his tongue keeping firm contact with that vein hoping to earn more praise and moans from the man. His efforts proved successful when he hollowed his cheeks, creating even more friction. “you’re so good.” Ian moaned out, giving Mickey's hair a gentle tug, finally. Causing Mickey to practically whimper with need around his dick. His head bobbing faster with it as his hand moved to grip at Ian’s shirt, just needing something to grab onto as his other hand twisted at the base of Ian’s cock, the bit that Mickey couldn’t quite fit into his mouth.

“God you love that.” Ian said and shit Mickey had been found out within minutes as Ian looked down at him with wide, lust blown eyes. And all Mickey could do was look at him, jerk his hand around Ians cock faster as he rubbed just under the head with his tongue causing Ian to let out these kind of strangled noises that made Mickey’s dick start to throb in his boxers. Mickey didn’t even try to deny, didn’t send a glare or anything, just worked harder at making Ian lose his mind.

“Mick, I’m so close.” Ian’s other hand was fisting at the sheets now, his toes curling into the carpet next to Mickey’s knees. He just hummed around him, knowing the vibrations would feel fucking phenomenal. 

And then Ian was groaning. “ah fuck, fuck” his orgasm building to its peak and Mickey moved his hand to grip at Ian’s that was tangled in the sheet, lacing their fingers together and then Ian was coming with a gasp, “Mickey.” his knees squeezing at Mickey's sides a little as his mouth worked him through it.

Ian collapsed against the bed letting out a laugh. “Holy shit.” He said, taking a minute to catch his breath. “Come lay with me.” Ian grinned at him as he reached down to pull his boxers back up over his hips.

“Only for a little bit, we got shit to do today.” Mickey replied with a smile, crawling up on the bed to lay next to Ian, doing his best to angle his hardened crotch away from Ians hip.

“Oh, do we now.” Ian spoke, enunciating the ‘we’ way more than necessary, because they were a ‘we’, an official pair. And the thought makes Mickey's stomach flutter and his cheeks heat up and he thinks maybe Ian notices, because he is grabbing his cheeks and leaning in for a kiss.

“Man, I just had your dick in my mouth.” Mickey grumbles before Ian can press his lips into his own and Mickey is a little worried about his mouth tasting bad because of it. 

“Mm, dont care.” Ian hummed, guiding Mickey in by the back of his head. 

Mickey doesn't think he’ll ever get tired of this, the way his whole body kind of fills up with warmth and just pure joy as their lips brush together and Mickey sighs into the kiss happily before he can stop himself. Which sort of causes the chain reaction of Ian pulling Mickey flush against him and Mickey’s hard on is pressed into his hip now, in that way Mickey was trying to avoid. And it's not like he didn't want to get off with Ian. Because he really did, he just didn’t want Ian to feel obligated to return the favor.

Mickey can feel Ian smirk against his lips as he presses his thigh between Mickey's legs, causing him to gasp.

“Can i?” Ian asks gently, the way he says it making it seem like he may be doing it more for himself than Mickey. His lips move to press kisses around Mickey's face so gently, so lovingly. And Mickey just nods eagerly, thinks that maybe if Ian tried to suck him off again that he’d probably let him. 

Because a few things have changed since last night. Ian had made his intentions clear, that he wanted him, all of him in any way Mickey was willing to give. That Ian loved him and Mickey would keep repeating that in his head for as long as it continued to bring him so much contentment.

Mickey found himself gripping at Ians shoulders, just to ground himself and Ian moved his hand to palm against the hardness in his pants. His head moving to rest in the crook of Ians neck, lips brushing there just barely as he panted. 

He tried to stifle his moan into Ians neck as he dipped his hand into Mickey's boxers, his hand moving to wrap around his cock there, rubbing over the head with his thumb and Mickey felt like he could pass out at the sensation. Because Mickey never knew something could feel this fucking good and it seems that with Ian it just keeps getting better and better. 

With other guys he might as well have just done it himself, it only having scratched the surface of that deep itch desire. The orgasms often leaving him unfulfilled and more lonely than beforehand. Just a few minutes of kissing Ian and rutting against him had been far more pleasurable than any sexual encounter he’s ever had. 

“That feel good?” Ian said so, so softly into his ear and Mickey couldn't stand it when Ian had done it last night, couldn't stand it now either because it drove him absolutely crazy. Sent an extra spike of pleasure through his entire body. Making his body shiver with it just for a moment.

“You know it does.” Mickey had tried to reply snarkily but it just came out shaky, almost like a whine. Which apparently was Ians cue to stroke him a little faster, his hand gripping just so on the down stroke and twisting on the way up in a way that had Mickey's mind going blank for a second. Like all that existed in the world right now was Ian and the intense amount of pleasure he was bringing him.

Ian shifted onto his knees on the bed to straddle one of his legs, his hand now free where it had been trapped between their two bodies. His free hand that he now used to rub an Mickey's nipple over his shirt.

“Oh, fuck you” Mickey keened, and Ians neck wasnt there to hide him as he practically whimpered for it, his body arching into it on its own accord. Mickey saw how the movement caused a spark to ignite in Ian's eyes. And then Ians hands were working with real purpose, pinching at his nipple and stroking at Mickeys cock and all he could do was lay there, letting out these fucking moans that he couldnt stifle because he couldnt manage to close his mouth through all the pleasure. 

Both of his hands gripping at Ians biceps, the muscle there feeling nice under his palms as he squeezed. “Come on, sugar, you can do it.” Ian spoke sweetly, his heated eyes locking onto Mickey’s, and that's all it took for him. That little bit of encouragement making his back arch and his body shake through to another incredible orgasm in the last 24 hours. The little nickname sending that extra jolt through him as he gasped through it as he pulsed into Ians hands, coating his fingers with his come. 

When Mickey finally opened his eyes after the final shocks of his orgasm, he saw Ian looking down at him again. That same look of amazement that he saw last night. “You’re so fucking hot.” he stated, pulling his hands from Mickey’s boxers to wipe them on a one of Mickeys discarded shirts before leaning down to press a kiss into his mouth, dipping his tongue in immediately making Mickey hum blissfully. 

Mickey used his palm to push Ian back a little bit, Ian smiling, taking Mickey's bottom lip with him through his teeth for just a moment.

“Did you call me fucking sugar?” Mickey asked in a teasing tone, eyebrows pointed high. 

“Yes and you fucking loved it.” Ian said confidently. “And no matter what you say i'm not gonna believe otherwise.”

\--

Ian -

To his surprise, Mickey was able to coax him out of the bed. It took some bribing for Ian to release Mickey from their comfortable cuddling position on the bed, but Mickey had promised to buy him coffee and some breakfast and Ian didnt realize how fucking hungry he was until he said that. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Ian said as they walked down the busy streets of Manhattan, fingers laced together for the world to see and Ian had never been more proud to show off anyone in his life. 

He had quite a few boyfriends over the years admittedly, he never had a problem with picking up men. Because Ian wasn't oblivious, he knew he was an attractive man. But none of the men he’d ever dated seemed to really get him, or excite him really. They were all nice, some good in bed and what others lacked in skill they made up with enthusiasm, but no matter how hard Ian tried, he could never make himself fall in love with them. 

And then Mickey was thrust back into his life and it almost felt immediate, his pure attraction to the man. And fuck Ian had fallen for Mickey before he had even started trying, before Mickey even saw Ian as an option. He attracted Ian like a magnet just by being himself really and the smallest things had Ian wishing he could take the man apart, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. And Ian really really hopes Mickey is open to bottoming because Ian thinks about his ass constantly.

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He waved him off with his free hand. “Where did you wanna get breakfast?” 

“Gotham cafe on second ave?” Ian asked, definitely already knowing the answer.

“Fuck, thats my favorite.” Mickey looked at him with this excited grin and Ian was overjoyed that he got to be a part of that. Be a part of Mickey’s happiness, because from what he heard from Mandy, it wasn't something he experienced a lot of. 

Mandy had not told Ian much about their past, Mickeys specifically, and he understands why. He wants to hear it from Mickey himself as well. But from the things he’s heard on the street about Terry growing up, Ian assumes his father has a huge part to play in Mickey’s inability to trust and open up.

“I know. That's where I ran into Mandy.” Ian squeezed at Mickey's hand at the memory. He was still so grateful for that day, he thinks that maybe if he had missed her, that little 5 minute window, then he wouldn’t have Mickey now. Wouldn’t be experiencing some of the arguably best days of his life so far. “I remember her mentioning it was your favorite.” 

“Man, you remember the dumbest things.” Mickey said, but Ian felt like he didn't really mean it, by the way he was smiling when he said it. His cheeks turning that shade of pink that Ian desperately wants to swatch and paint his entire apartment in. 

“It’s not dumb, you’re so excited for this coffee.” Ian said with a laugh.

“Yeah, well i really want to lea-”

“Mickey!” a female voice cut Mickey off with a shout and Ian tried not to be annoyed by it, because he really wanted to hear what Mickey had to say. ‘Cause he was saying it in that sweet tone of voice that he hasn't brought out that much yet. 

Ian remembers him saying ‘i missed you’ the night before in that same tone and he knows that memory will be engraved in his memory for the rest of his life. His sweet Mickey.

“Not this fucker.” Mickey said but he was grinning wide as the girl, no older than 18 or 19 jogged up to them, an excited look on her face. “I’m getting real sick of seeing your ugly mug.” Mickey said jokingly and the interaction was really throwing Ian off. Because Mickey didn't even act like this around his best friend.

The girl was grinning widely at him before wrapping her arms around Mickey in a tight hug, one in which he returned and Ian was kind of just standing there. His hand was abandoned by Mickeys as he waited for some sort of explanation. But then the girl was looking at him all excited. “Ian, hi.” she said, her voice high with enthusiasm and then she was wrapping her arms around Ian. Ian looked shocked at Mickey over the girls head and Mickey was just smiling at him all soft. “Fan.” Mickey mouthed at him simply as Ian hesitantly wrapped his arms around the girl. 

“I’m a huge fan of the show.” She spoke to him after she pulled back from the hug. 

“This is Yasmin.” Mickey cut in, moving his hand to rub at Ians back gently as he spoke.  
“I've met her at least 5 times, was really considering getting a restraining order.” He said in a teasing tone.

Yasmin watched closely as Mickey's hand rubbed at Ians back, her eyes shifting to something knowing. “Anyways.” she said happily, giving Ian a little encouraging eyebrow quirk. “I just wanted to say hello, I'll let you fellas get back to your date.” 

Ian could tell Mickey was shocked speechless for just a second by her comment and Ian found himself sending the girl a playful glare. 

“Uh yeah” Mickey stuttered out. “It was nice seeing you again kid, I'm sure I'll see you again soon.” And god Ian was so fucking fond of Mickey. Of how easily flustered he got and how sweet he apparently was to his fans and Ian didn't even know it was possible for his soft spot for Mickey to grow but he had proved himself wrong. 

Once Yasmin had given them one final goodbye hug and made her exit, Ian turned to Mickey. Grabbing his hand and bringing it to his lips briefly before speaking exactly what was on his mind. “I fucking adore you.” 

The grin on Mickey's face from just moments ago dropped into something serious, something that shows that he wasn't expecting Ian to say that. And the man just pushes in just a little bit closer, going on his toes to press a short and soft kiss to Ians mouth. And even though Mickey didn't actually say anything in response, his silence and kiss had said so much.

\--

Eventually they found themselves walking through a neighborhood a good 20 blocks from Mickey's apartment with their bagels and coffee in tow. 

Even though Mickey had made a promise to pay for Ian earlier that morning, he had ended up handing the barista his card before Mickey had time to pull it from his wallet. It had earned Ian a punch in the arm, and a thank you kiss on the cheek a while later after they had received their food, which was all Ian really could’ve asked for.

“So, are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” Ian said through a mouthful of bacon and egg.

“Cute” Mickey said sarcastically, shoving a napkin in his direction to wipe the bit of mayonnaise he had smeared on his chin. “I’m feeding my cat while Joseys on her honeymoon.”

“You have a cat?” Ian asked, confused. Because he never heard Mickey mentioning he had a cat. Certainly didn't see any signs of one around his apartment but apparently it was at his friends house for some reason. And Ians finding himself confused for about the 3rd time this morning, because Mickey Milkovich was a goddamn mystery. 

Mickey was unlocking the door to her townhouse now, picking the key from a fake rock in a flowerpot. 

“I couldn't keep her.” Mickey said and Ian heard just how solemn he was about it. “Apparently Mandy’s allergic to the dander and Bowie certainly isn't hypoallergenic.” 

“So Josey adopted him? That's nice though isn't it?” and yet Mickey wasn't really smiling about it.

As soon as the door closed behind them Mickey was making a little clicking sound against his cheek to call the cat. A little orange and white cat trotting into the room at the noise and Mickey didn't hesitate to pick her up and hold her against his chest. “Nah, Jos can't keep her, I'm looking for a new home for her.” 

Mickey scratched at her head softly as she purred in his arms and It made Ians gut twist at just how sad Mickey seemed to let her go. So he spoke before he could really stop himself or think through his decision. Even though from the moment Mickey had said it his mind was already made up. 

“I’ll take her.” Ian said, his hand reaching out to pet at the fur on her back. 

Mickey’s head jolted up, looking at Ian as if he’d just grown a second head. “Ian, you don't gotta do that for me.” He said seriously and he knows Mickey probably thinks he’s doing it out of obligation and in a way maybe he is. Because all he really wants to do is see Mickey happy. And Mickey seems to really love this ball of fur so why the fuck not. Having a cat could be fun. 

Ian just shrugged. “I've been thinking about getting a pet. Gets kind of lonely in my apartment sometimes.” 

And then Mickey was smiling so fucking big at him and how could Ian regret a single thing when he was looking at Ian like that. And maybe Ian was a little fucked, because he’d do absolutely anything just to see that smile.

And so the two of them packed up all the cat food after Bowie had devoured the can Mickey layed out for her. Putting her in the little cat carrier Mickey had bought a while back, using it to hold her on their walk to Ians apartment. Ian kind of wishes they’d just taken his car because the cat meows the whole walk there.

Mickey seems so genuinely happy when he opens up the little carrier to let little Bowie see her new home. He coaxes her out with a gentle voice, scratching at her back to sooth her anxiety and Ian can't believe how soft this man is. He certainly can't believe how lucky he is to be able to see Mickey this way, almost everyone that met Mickey didn't get to see just how truly sweet he was. Most people didn't stick around long enough to find out. 

“Thank you for this.” Mickey says quietly, and Ian figures saying thank you wasn't something that came all that easy to him. Because he usually denied help or blew off compliments and Ians still in absolute shock over the whole thing. At how much Mickey seemed to be trying for him. 

\--

Mickey -

Mickey’s never been in love, but now he’s thinking he definitely knows what it's like to adore someone, to admire them so much that it hurts. And he definitely thinks it's too soon for him to start thinking about what it means to love Ian. The thought itself kind of scaring him. Because despite being so happy with where he was, he still had these lingering thoughts that slowly ate away at his brain that maybe Ian wasn't in this for the long haul. 

Mickey tries not to get overwhelmed with it, with the thought that Ian’s known Mickey much longer than Mickey’s known him, had apparently fallen for him and Mickey feels a little bad about it. At the fact that Mickey can’t say ‘I love you’ back. And he wonders if it bothers Ian. Wonders if maybe he’ll get bored or fed up.

But then Ian had agreed to take his fucking cat and that had to mean something. Something that hinted at, ‘hey we’re going to be seeing each other for awhile now so why dont i keep your cat so you don't have to get rid of him’. And maybe Ian really did just want a pet to keep him company, but Ian really doesn't seem like a cat person. Looks a little awkward when trying to pet him and talk to him. It makes Mickey smile.

After they’ve got Mickey’s cat settled in, well Ians cat. Their cat? And thats weird as fuck to say, to think about. The fact that they’ve been exclusive for a fucking day and they’re already sharing a living, breathing thing. it's a little wild. 

Mickey’s looking around Ians apartment, just kind of walking around the few rooms of the place. It’s not all that big, which makes sense for a college student. But it's decorated in a way that feels kind of homey, whereas Mickey's large apartment has a lot of open and empty space that feels real lonely when it's just him at home. The place is littered with picture frames of people Mickey assumes are his siblings, nieces and nephews too maybe. 

“Probably not as nice as you’re used to.” Ian walked in behind him, wrapping his arms around Mickey's waist to hug him from the back as Mickey observed the framed pictures on the wall. 

“I like it.” Mickey said honestly. “Feels like a home.” And Mickey felt Ians arms tighten around him just a little bit more before feeling the bit of pressure that was Ian placing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You can come over whenever you want.” Ian said as he began to sway the two of them, Mickey just now hearing the sound of gentle music playing in the background. “Even when I'm at school, you can come hang out with Bowie.” And the thought that Ian just trusted him that much, wanted him around that much made Mickeys chest swell.

“What’d i say about dancing?” Mickey spoke through a smile, choosing not to respond to Ians comment, because he really didn't think he could bring himself to say thank you for the second time that day, even though he was extremely grateful for the man. 

“We’re not dancing.” Ian said softly, the slow movements matching the tune coming from Ians record player proving otherwise. “We’re just shuffling where there just happens to be music.”

“You’re an asshole.” Mickey turned around in his arms now to finally look at him and Ian looked so soft, so happy and Mickey needed to feel that smile against his lips immediately. 

One of Mickey's hands moved to brush through Ians soft hair, the other restings at his shoulder as he pulled himself up to press his lips into Ians. Ian responding immediately by wrapping his arms around Mickey's back, his palms flat against his to pull his body closer. Ians warmth filling his body with so much emotion that he’s really not used to feeling. But it's good, feels like sunshine and warm blankets and it makes him feel safe.

The sound of Ians phone ringing interrupted them this time and Mickey was getting real fucking tired of them not being able to have a goddamn moment of peace. 

“I gotta take this.” Ian said softly after looking at the contact name on his phone, stepping away from Mickey to press his phone to his ear. “Lip, whats up?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so im sure you can tell, but this was kind of a filler chapter to set some things up for the next one but i really hoped you enjoy reading it anyway. as always im happy to hear any feedback you have!   
> also if anyone wants to follow me on twitter @/micksgun
> 
> thank you!  
> roman


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The internets buzzing about a sweet looking pair.

Monday Evening, September 14th

Ian -

Ian kind of wishes he’d just let his phone ring, in favor of holding Mickey just a little bit longer. Maybe taking the chance to hear the man moan and shake apart under him just one more time today. 

But instead Ian had picked up his phone, seeing Lips number flash on his screen, and knew immediately that Lip never really called unless it was an emergency. 

It’s not like he wasn't close with his brother. He was closer with Lip then he was with any of his other siblings. It just wasn't like him to call, check in and talk about matters that weren't really pressing. They texted back and forth occasionally, sometimes asking for quick advice or sometimes Lip will just complain about some stupid shit Frank or Debbie have done to piss him off.

So when Ian answers the phone, he’s not all that surprised to hear that his father Frank got himself thrown into the intensive care unit in the hospital. The dumbass no doubt jumping in front of a car willingly for booze money no doubt, which concluded with a harder bump to the head then usual, putting him into a coma. 

Frank is a dick. He knows that, they all know that. And he’s not really sure how he would react if Frank were to die in this situation but he doesnt think it would necessarily tear him up inside. But it was kind of an unsaid agreement that when the Gallaghers needed him home, he would come. 

That leads to now, Ian standing in his bedroom with the duffle bag he’s packing that's sitting on the bed next to Mickey’s feet. And Mickey’s kind of just watching him absently, as if he’s not sure that he’s doing it. Ian makes sure to lean over and kiss the man on his lips, shaking him from his daze a little bit, that gentle smile putting Ian at ease. He’s already dreading having to leave him, right when he finally got him. Right when it was acceptable to hold him, to kiss him whenever the fuck he felt like it and to hear his gasp.   
Ian has to train his thoughts away before he gets distracted by the task at hand, with Mickey around he was quickly discovering just how distracted he could get.

Ian manages to get some emails sent out to all his professors about his family emergency. And Ians having a hard time not talking himself out of leaving tonight. But he’s got an 11 hour drive ahead of him and they arent sure how Frank is going to make out so he’s really got to fucking do this. Because Ian’s a family man and he’s reliable goddamnit.

“I’m sure you’re dad will be alright.” Mickey says reassuringly and Ian’s sure it’s because the focused look on his face. “I’ve heard some shit about Frank Gallagher, I’m convinced the man can survive a nuclear war.”

Ian couldn't stop himself from chuckling at that, because it did take a lot to even put a bruise in the guys soul and Frank was kind of starting to sound like a cockroach. Which was so fucking fitting.

“He’s an asshole.” Ian said simply. “Y’know, he tried to sell my little brother for $50 and a little caesars pizza. Not even a full one, the shit was half eaten.”

That made Mickey laugh, a full bellied, eyes closed, nose scrunching laugh. Ian wishes he could record it and have it play on a loop for the rest of his life, because it was such a beautiful sight. His head throwing back with it. And Ians well aware of just how far gone on Mickey he is.

Mickey eventually spoke after his laughing fit had eased to a stop. “Our dads probably would’ve been best fucking friends.” Mickey ended with a grim look.

And Ian doesn't believe that, but chooses not to say it out loud. Because although Ians dad was shitty, he was never Terry Milkovich shitty. Frank never owned a gun or did serious time, never ‘fag bashed’ or killed anyone. He was just a selfish drug addict that made Ian’s life way more difficult than it needed to be.

Mickey spoke again when Ian didnt respond right away. “We celebrated when he died. Is that fucked up?” a bit of a sour smile touched his lips. 

“If Ihad a dad like Terry Ithink i’d make an annual tradition to celebrate his death.” Ian said seriously, because Mickey seemed a little guilty about it, and there really is no place for quilt over a man that would’ve killed you the second you came out to him. But Ian doesn't say that either.

\--- 

Tuesday Afternoon, September 15th

Mickey -

Mickey misses Ian the second he drives off, and it doesnt stop even after he falls asleep that night. Mickey had more or less tried to tell him not to leave with his eyes because he really had no right saying that shit out loud. But he knew this was something Ian had to do. So the beautiful fucker left him after dropping Mickey off at his apartment with a kiss and a spare key so that he could feed Bowie while he was gone. And Mickey really can’t stop smiling at the key, taking it out of his pocket every few hours to run his fingers over the ridges. And it stirs excitement in Mickey, because he has a fucking boyfriend, and that boyfriend loves him and he trusts him enough to give him a key to his apartment. It’s a wonderful feeling.

He’s pulling the key out of his pocket now, with intent to actually use it this time. It's a weird feeling, walking into Ians homey apartment to be greeted by his cat, their cat. And Mickey thinks its a decidedly good weird, because the place smells like Ian and his cat seems energetic and happy as usual. And he’s intrusted with a key to it all and that really means so much to Mickey. 

And Mickey really wishes he had time to just hang out, enjoy Ian’s space, cuddle up with his cat. But he’s got plans to meet up with Mandy to have drinks and he’s got a couple slices of pineapple upside down cake packed away for them that he’d hate to go to waste. So he doesn't linger too long, just taking a few minutes to set out Bowie's food, gives him a few quick scratches and makes sure his litter box is looking okay. And it's really no one's business if he grabs one of Ian’s jackets from the laundry room to wear. It’s clean and doesn't smell much like him anymore, but Ian had worn it the day they went to the apple orchard so sue him if he had a little bit of an emotional attachment to the particular item. So he throws it on, takes just a moment to admire how it looks on him, before he’s heading out the door.

When Mickey arrives at the bar, just some quiet dive bar in brooklyn that they frequented in Brooklyn, taking his seat at a booth with his sister and Eddy. He notices they both look a little tense, backs straight and Mandy’s got her anxious foot shake going on that Mickey can see under the table, and he’s really hoping he didn't just insert himself into some kind of lovers quarrel. He really wasn't in the mood for any of the drama, never was for that matter. 

“Why the fuck are you both looking at me like that?” Mickey decided to face the problem head on as he took his seat at the booth. Because there was really no sense in tiptoeing around it the whole night.

“Look at you like what?” Mandy responded defensively, a Milkovich specialty.

“Like you’re my parents and you’re about to tell me you’re getting a divorce or some shit.” And they were all just kind of silent for a minute, Mandy’s tenseness not letting up the least bit as she glances at Eddy, then back to him.

“I’m gonna show you something, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“I’m not promising you shit.” Now Mickey was getting a little antsy, because clearly Mandy had some bad news, which was really unfortunate because Mickey has been real fucking happy lately. And Mickey really should’ve known it was too good to be true, that he would get to be genuinely happy without anything coming in to fuck it up.

She pulled out her phone and began tapping at the screen, seemingly scrolling through something before she turned the screen to face Mickey.

And fuck, Mickey thinks he might have a panic attack at the table right now. Because he’s looking at a picture of him and Ian, taken yesterday. It’s a shot from behind of Mickey holding Ian’s cheeks as he kisses him. Ian’s got his hands resting on Mickey’s lower back and it just looks really fucking gay.

And there’s only really one place he thinks it could’ve come from. 

He knows Yasmin didn't mean anything by it, she’s a good kid. Probably just excited to see the development in Mickey’s life. But she had essentially just outed Mickey to the world, which he wasn't really planning on doing so soon, especially after only being with Ian for such a short amount of time.

“It went viral, it's on a couple online new articles too.” She said softly, pulling her phone away to tuck it back into her pocket.

And then he’s panicking thinking about Ian, because what if Ian didn’t want to be out to the entire fucking world either? What if his family didn’t even know and now he was home with them all. He’s scared that Ians gonna hate him for this, and Mickey knows he’s thinking of the worst case scenario. But he doesn't really know how not to.

“Mick, you gotta speak.”

“I gotta call Ian.” Mickey said quickly, standing from the booth to shakily take his phone from his pocket.

“Sit down for a minute man, take a breath.” Eddy stood from his seat as well, placing his hand on Mickey's shoulder as an attempt to calm him, which really served to do the opposite.

“Dont fucking touch me” Mickey spoke harshly, before moving outside to dial Ian’s number.

And it rings forever it seems. He can feel his heart pounding out of his chest and his stomach feels kind of icy from anxiety. And then he’s getting sent to voicemail and Mickey swears he could cry. He dials him again immediately, getting no response again and so he’s sending off these rapid anxious texts to Ian that say ‘Please call me’ and ‘I'm sorry’ in a couple different forms and Mickey feels a little pathetic.

Feels even more pathetic when he makes his way back into the bar, phone at full volume so he can hear it if Ian decides that he wants to talk. And he kinda hates himself when he orders three shots of tequila, washing them down with whatever fruity drink Mandy had been drinking and they’re both looking at him real concerned. But they don't talk about it again that night. Mickey’s thankful.

Wednesday Morning, September 16th

Ian -

Ian had been having a pretty good fucking morning until he had stopped by the hospital. His shithead father had finally woken up which meant he was just that little bit closer to coming home to Mickey. Everything seemed to be going his way, as he made his way into the hospital, anxious to tell Mickey the good news.

And he would’ve told him sooner, as soon as he found out from Lip if he hadnt forgotten his phone in Frank's hospital room the night before, driving his way all the way back home before he discovered he had left it by the man’s bed. It would’ve been at least a 20 minute drive to the hospital and he wasn't even sure the nurses would let him in after visiting hours. 

So his phone sat there overnight, collecting a plethora of notifications that did nothing but worry and stress him the fuck out. 

He sees that he has 3 missed calls from Mickey, at least 5 pleading texts from him telling him to call him and that he is sorry and that sends Ian into sort of a panic, matching the tone of the messages. 

He finds himself back in the parking garage sitting in his car for a little more privacy than the hospital’s waiting room was giving him when he tries Mickey’s cell for the 3rd time and goes straight to voicemail. He’s about to open up the text conversation when he sees Lip had sent him an article about 30 minutes ago, followed by a series of question marks.

Ian’s finally seeing what Mickey had been panicking about, and Ian thinks Mickey really has no reason to be sorry. Ian thinks maybe he should be apologizing, because Mickey’s the one with the big baking career and all the fans that look up to him.

Ian makes the mistake of opening his instagram to check the damage of the situation, and he really wishes he’d just ignored the little banners that popped up at the top of his screen indicating that he had some unopened direct messages. Because the second he sees them Ian’s getting more and more furious the more he reads. 

Ian doesn't consider himself the jealous type, has never really had the issue before. Until now, as he reads through the endless stream of comments and dms talking about how hot Mickey is. And Ian knows most of Mickey's fans find him attractive, most of his fans being teenage girls however. But now Mickey was out, the world new he was gay and that fact was not being taken lightly. He’s got people, men roughly his age, talking about his boyfriend's ass, talking about the things they wanted to do to him. Ian genuinely can’t remember a time in his life he’s wanted to punch someone more.

He closed out of the hellish app, knowing the more he stayed on the worse his mood would get. He had other things to worry about. Like Mickey, and whether he was upset with him or maybe is just panicking, thinking Ian is going to leave him. As if that could ever be the case. But Micks a worrier and Ians determined to show him everyday that there's nothing to stress about with him. That he’s always got a safe and judgement free place with him.

So he calls Mandy, and he’s immediately relieved to hear her voice after the third ring. 

“Glad to hear at least one of the Milkovich’s is alive.” Ian tried to joke but that bit of jealousy still lingering made it come out a little strained.

“You sound upset.” Mandy spoke dejected into the phone and he thinks she’s probably assuming Ian’s calling her because he’s avoiding Mickey or something. Is too angry to speak with him. And it really hurts him to think that Mickey probably thinks that’s what's happening.

“I’m not mad at Mickey.” Ian spoke quickly. “I left my phone at the hospital last night, I wasn't trying to ignore him.”

Ian heard her sigh of relief at his words. “What’s wrong then?”

“I’ve got assholes in my dms that have been talking about how fat Mickey’s a-”

“Okay yeah, we don't have to talk about my brother's ass, i've seen a few of the comments.” She cut him off quickly.

“Hey, Idon't wanna hear that from other people either.” Ian huffed “Usually this kind of shit doesnt bother me, Imean, ive had open relationships before and they didnt bother me as much as one fucking comment.” he admitted 

“It’s different when you love someone.” And the genuineness of it made him smile a bit. 

“Yeah, it's changing me a lot more than I'd like to admit.” He chuckled, because Mickey had changed him a lot. He had spent his early 20’s messing around with different guys, never really committing, it never really appealed to him. Being with one person, and then he met Mickey and oh hello, meet Ian. Mr. Monogamous himself.

“He baked a pineapple upside down cake yesterday.” Mandy said and Ian’s caught off guard at the sudden change of subject. “He’s only made it twice in his life, I noticed he only does it when he’s really happy.” And Ians confusion dissolves quickly, and he’s quiet as he listens to her carefully, because she’s sharing a little piece of Mickey that he wont get from the other man no matter how much he pries.

“He baked one when Kev got his wife pregnant, that was his best friend for a while, don't know if you know him or not.” Ian thinks he might know Kev, if she’s referring to the owner of Frank’s favorite bar, the boyfriend to Fiona's best friend Veronica. And he remembers hearing that she was having trouble conceiving a baby. 

“Before now, the last time he baked one was when he came out to me. I think that was a huge weight off his shoulders.” She spoke the last bit with pride in her voice for her brother.

And those are some damn good things to be happy about, but now Mickey was happy because of him. He knows Mickey isn't all that good with portraying his feelings, but just knowing this little tidbit of information says so much.

“Where is he?” Ian asks finally, not being able to go another moment without knowing if he’s okay.

“Sleeping off one killer of a hangover, no doubt.” And Ian feels a little horrible now, because Mickey had most likely gotten drunk to ease his anxiety. He wishes he could’ve been the one to do it for him. “You want me to wake him up?”

“No, let him sleep. He’s not a morning person anyway.” Ian said softly, because Ian had made Mickey wait all night, he figures he can let Mickey get a few more hours of sleep before he wakes up with a headache. “I gotta go talk to some lawyers anyway. I’ll send him a text, just tell him to call me when he wakes up?”

“You got it red.”

Ian: Everythings gonna be okay, call me later. Love you

Mickey -

It’s around noon when Mickey finally wakes up, his head pounding and he’s feeling a little nauseous from the tequila smell lingering on his skin. It doesn't take long for the events from the night before to flood his brain, serving to make him even more nauseous.

He lays there just for a moment to try and will the nausea away, he’s still wrapped up in Ian’s jacket and he’s not sure yet if it's making him feel better or worse. And fuck he really needs to know where the two stand, because ignorance most definitely isnt bliss right now.

He grabs his phone from his side table to see if Ian had called, And he doesn't quite remember turning his phone off. Is a little pissed at himself for it because Ian could’ve called him, he could’ve known the answers to what was eating at his brain hours ago. 

He saw the messages and missed calls pop up on his screen when the damn thing finally turned on and and just like that Mickey wasn't worried about a single thing anymore. There were a few texts explaining how he had left his phone at the hospital overnight, explaining that the picture didnt bother him and a love you that was so simple but made Mickey so fucking warm.

And then Mickey tries to call him again and he gets sent straight to voicemail and he swears he’s gonna beat him over the head as soon as he sees Ian again.

His phone chimes with that special ringtone only Ian has.

Ian: Sorry bub, in a meeting. I’ll call you when I get out?

Okay, Mickey wasnt that mad. Because Ian just called him fucking bub, which is so odd for a pet name but also doesnt make him want to vomit. Mickey knows he doesn't like shit like babe and baby. They sound so corny and forced, but bub is nice, and sugar sounds real good when Mickey’s on the verge of a mindblowing orgasm.

Eventually Mickey drags himself out of bed to take a shower and put on some clean clothes. And he manages to sneak past Mandy, while she’s watching some drag race show in her room, as he leaves the apartment to go see his cat.

Mickey feels warm the second he steps past the threshold, he doesn't really understand why the small apartment fills him with so much joy. Because Mickey had nice things and large rooms but they didnt feel cozy. Not like Ians earthy toned furniture and compact kitchen. And his couch is starting to show signs of Bowie, little specks of white fur gathering in what must be his favorite spot. And it all just feels so surreal. 

After Mickey puts out some fresh food and water for Bowie he takes his time looking around Ians apartment, this time looking into the smaller details. Like the little bit of star wars memorabilia on Ians bookshelf and he’s really not surprised that Ian may have a little bit of a nerdy side. And he’s got a ton of books that Mickeys sure are solely for decoration. And on the fourth shelf, right at Mickey's eye level is one of his old cook books that he had published a little over 2 years ago. But it looks brand new, and it's still got the little target discount sticker on it when Mickey pulls it out and he figures Ian probably bought it recently. The book not having time to collect even a speck of dust like any of the other ones.

It makes Mickey feel really fucking good. Like maybe this is Ians way of being proud of him. 

He makes his way into Ian’s bedroom and Mickey thinks this is his favorite room in the house. Because it's the room that feels the most like Ian. It’s got a dark green bedspread, that looks nice with the grey of the walls and everything in the room has sort of an earthy tone to it that makes Mickey feel safe. Mickey sees a plain white shirt laying at the end of Ians bed, contrasting greatly with the darkness of the blanket and he’s having a really hard time ignoring it.

Mickey gives into his urges, picking the shirt up to bring it to his nose just briefly. And it smells like Ian’s cologne, serving as a reminder at just how much he misses the man after a day. 

He gets an idea that sort of just feels right, taking his own tshirt off to toss it on the bed as well, pulling Ians white t-shirt over his head. And it’s not baggy like you’d expect your boyfriend's shirt to be. It’s snug against Mickey’s body, because Ian had usually worn his shirts skin tight. And it feels odd against Mickey's body, almost like being held and Mickey doesnt wear tight fitting clothes, doesn't think he has the body for it. But right now this shirt was feeling good wrapped around him, the scent and light pressure of the fabric sending a wave of arousal through his body. 

And without thinking too much about it Mickey pulls out his phone to hit call on Ians contact. Because it was worth a shot, and if Ian was still busy then he’d just decline the call.

“Mickey, hi.” Ian said happily “I was just about to call you.” 

Ian’s voice made Mickey practically hum, Mickey moved to lay on Ians bed, surrounding himself with even more of Ian. 

“You could’ve gotten Mandy to wake me up y’know. Was real fucking worried” Mickey’s words dont come out upset or angry. Because Mickey’s over the whole situation, doesn't want any drama ruining their happy bubble any longer.

Ian huffed a laugh into the phone. “You’re not exactly a morning person.” And then his voice went soft for a moment. “Wanted you to get some sleep too.”

“Yeah well, fuck you.” Mickey grumbles because what else is he gonna do, lie? Say that Ian was wrong when he hit the nail on the goddamn head.

Ian speaks softly after just a moment. “I’m sorry about last night, I wish i’d been able to talk to you.”

“I’m not worried about it if you aren't.” Mickey says honestly. “I’m just glad we’re okay.”

“We’re more than okay.” The way Ian says it makes Mickey really believe it, makes him believe that maybe they always will be okay.

“What are you doing?” Mickey speaks again, his tone turning to something softer.

“Me and Lip just got back from the hospital. The fucker woke up about 2 hours ago.” Ian huffed a laugh through the line.

“I bet you’re relieved.” Mickey knew that even though Frank Gallagher was a real piece of work, Ian still cared for him.

“Yeah Iguess Iam.” Ian sighed into the phone. “I’m still missing you though, so all my problems aren't solved yet.” And Mickey heard the sound of his brother making something he assumes is a kissing noise and he hears Ian laugh through a ‘shut the fuck up’. 

Somehow that answers the question of whether Ian’s out to his family or not, because they’ve gotten passed the awkward stage of not knowing how to react to just teasing. He went through the same thing with his brother Iggy.

“He’s awake. Don’t ya get to come home now?” He said home as if Ian wasn't right where he grew up, the house he’d shared most of his life memories surrounded by his family. But Mickey still felt like maybe his home was with him in new york now. Not just the place he paid his rent and kept his clothes, but the place where Bowie was. The place where Mickey was. 

“No, apparently the truck that hit him was some big corporation, so now we gotta talk to lawyers and shit about a settlement.” And of course Frank would somehow end up getting some money out of the situation.

“The rest of your family can’t do that shit?” 

“This you’re way of telling me you want me back, Milkovich?” Ian’s voice dropped low into the phone, sending Mickey back into that full body hum state. 

There was a long pause because Mickey didn't know how to respond to it, figured his voice would come out a little strained if he tried to deny it. “What are you doing, Mickey?”

“I’m at your apartment feeding Bowie.” Mickey said simply before deciding to buck up and be a little honest. “Laying in your bed, now.” He said so quietly, almost hoping Ian wouldn't hear it.

“Oh.” Ian said a little breathily into the phone. And Ian probably thinks Mickey can't hear the conversation going on in the background when Ian tells Lip that he’s going upstairs and for the love of god don't bother me.

Then Mickey laughing before he can really stop himself, his gut cramping up with it as Ian's voice cuts through the speaker. “Fuck, you heard that didnt you.” Ian laughs along with him. 

“Look, in my defense. My hot boyfriends kinda laying in my bed, missing me. Sorry if Ineed a little alone time thinking about it.”

And there's a few parts of that sentence that make Mickey all hot, primarily the one with Ian hinting at him getting off on the fact that Mickey was curled up in his blankets, thinking about him. “I’m wearing your shirt too.” Mickey says before he can syke himself out about it.

“Fuck.” Ian huffs through the line and Mickey thinks he can hear the sound of a door shutting.

“You teasing me right now?” Ian asks, a little unsure.

“Man, I'm way too horny to be teasing you.” Mickey admits, because it may have only been a day without being with Ian but he still felt like he was being deprived.

“Shit. do you mind if i-” Ian pauses as if he’s trying to find the proper way to say what's on his mind. “Can we-.” another pause.

“Spit it out, mumbles.” Mickey says playfully into the line.

“Can we like, get off together?” Ian pauses for just a second and Mickey kind of figured that's where the conversation was going, but it makes his cheeks tint a little with embarrassment anyway. “I mean, I’ve never done it before, and we don't have to like do the dirty talk thing. I just want to hear you.”

Mickey found himself growing impossibly hard in his jeans at the thought of jerking himself off to the sounds of Ians pants and he knows Ian gets a little chatty when he’s feeling good and Mickey is really looking forward to it. 

“Yeah, okay.” Mickey says breathily into the phone.

“Okay.” Ian’s words shake a little when he speaks now. And it was still a little peculiar hearing Ian nervous, because the man usually exuded so much confidence. To hear him fumbling his words while talking to Mickey was something he found very endearing.   
“I'm just gonna-” He stops himself and Mickey can tell he’s embarrassed to tell Mickey what he’s doing.

Mickey was laughing again. Because it is so awkward and neither one of them really know what they're doing. But Mickey’s still giddy, still hard and needy. “You taking your dick out, Ian?” Mickey spoke in a teasing tone.

Ian was right there along with him laughing, Mickey could practically hear a little of the nervousness leave his body as he spoke. “Yes I am, asshole.”   
And they just kind of laughed together for a moment before small gasp came through the speaker, shutting Mickey up immediately, because fuck there was no way Ian wasnt touching himself now.

At the sound, Mickey was putting his phone on speaker quickly and laying it next to his head on the pillow, moving his hand to unbutton his jeans and push them down his thighs. 

“What shirt are you wearing.” Ian asks and it almost sounds like one of the corny ‘what are you wearing’ pickup lines, but that's not what it sounds like coming from Ians mouth. It sounds husky and a little breathless. He found himself palming himself over his boxers now, his breath coming out a little heavier into the line. 

“The white one, still smells like your cologne.” Mickey admits, a quiet moan making its way past his lips as he moves his hand into his boxers to wrap around his cock. 

He could hear Ian’s breath start to speed up, coming out in short pants now. “Bet it looks so good on you.” Ian lets out something close to a groan, like he’s feeling really good. And Mickey already feels his orgasm building just from hearing the other man’s moans. He strokes himself a little faster, his thumb rubbing over his head the way Ian’s had just the other day.

And he’s not sure why they're just making casual conversation while they jerk off together, because this most certainly isn't dirty talk. But it's serving to ease his nerves a bit, and it's definitely not turning him off. 

Something close to a whine escapes his lips and he twists his hand just so. “It’s a little tight.”

“What?” Ian says through a gasp 

“The shirts a little tight.” 

And then Ian was chuckling, a moan cutting through his short huffs of laughter. “Jesus, fuck, okay. Let's not say tight.”

It was Mickey’s turn to be confused. “What?” 

Mickey’s hand moved faster, feeling way too good to slow his pace just to wait on Ian’s response. 

“I want to finger you so bad.” Ian moaned out

And fuck Mickey really wasnt expecting that, the sentence alone sending shocks of pleasure through him that he really wasnt prepared for, and then he was coming in his hand with these little whines and Ian has to know whats going on because suddenly he’s babbling.

“Fuck, did you just come?” he hears Ian groan. “That’s so hot.” And then Mickey's sure Ians coming as well, muffled grunts passing through like maybe Ians biting into something to not make too much noise as he rides out his orgasm.

They’re quiet on the line for a few minutes, just breathing through their post orgasm daze before Mickey speaks again. “I wouldn't mind trying that.” And Mickey finds himself anticipating it a lot, getting excited to try this new thing with Ian.

“You’ve never done it before.” Ian sounds a little shocked. “Shit, sorry Ididn't mean to assume you were a bot-”

“It’s fine, bitch.” Mickey’s teasing tone shutting him up. 

“You’re gonna love it.” Ian said confidently. “I definitely will.”

“Yeah, well, you gotta get your ass home first.”

“I wanna come home.” Ian's voice is gentle and honest when he says it.

And it makes Mickey’s voice do the same when he speaks. “I miss you way more than I thought Icould.” The end of the sentence punctuated with a chuckle as Mickey laughs at how ridiculously sappy he sounds

“I'm gonna ask you something and it's gonna sound crazy as shit and you can say no.”

“You’re doing that rambling thing again.” and Mickey’s really hoping Ian asks what he thinks he’s going to ask.

“Will you come? To Chicago.”

And Mickey isn't sure in what twisted reality he could’ve possibly said no. Not when he wanted to be with Ian so bad, all the fucking time.

\---

Thursday Afternoon, September 17th

Ian -

Ian’s waiting outside the airport, and he’s a little nervous because maybe he hadn't thought this through completely. It’s not that he doesn't want Mickey there, he wants him there more than anything. Missed him more than he’s ever missed anyone he thinks. It’s the rest of the Gallaghers he’s not so sure about. Because they're intrusive and nosey and have no sense of reserve and Ian’s a little worried at how they’ll react to Mickey, how Mickey will react to them.

He pushes all those thoughts away because there Mickey is, walking up to him looking so fucking beautiful in a maroon long sleeve and those jeans that make his thighs look so good. He’s got his duffle bag in one hand and the cat carrier in the other and Ian really can't keep himself from kissing the man any longer. 

“We’re gonna have a repeat incident.” Mickey said teasingly, when Ian approached him, clear of his intentions. 

“Dont give a fuck.” Ian said through a grin before leaning down to press a sweet kiss to Mickey’s lips. He felt Mickey sigh into it before he set his items down, Bowie’s nonstop meowing still not ceasing as Mickey wrapped his arms tightly around Ian, pulling him in close for a hug and Ian swears he hears Mickey sniff briefly, a sort of long inhale. 

“Missed you so much.” He said into the crook of Ians neck, and he knows Mickey had said it just last night, but it still has a huge effect on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably the hardest for me to get through, just because i suffered through some writers block at the beginning. I ended up rewriting a good bit of it, but i hope you like the end result. I originally had some more ideas for this chapter, but realized it would end up being exceptionally long. so ive once again added on another chapter to the fic.
> 
> keep the feedback coming, it really does help me produce chapters faster if i know you're enjoying it.
> 
> roman


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You say it best, when you say nothing at all.

Thursday Afternoon, September 17th

Mickey’s tapping relentlessly against the little ledge on the car door where the window meets the leather, the hand only moving occasionally to pull the cigarette from between his lips. He’s working on his second now, having asked Ian first if it was okay to smoke in his car, which he had given a gentle ‘of course’ and asked if he could share one with him. And he’s leaning his head out the window to release the smoke from his lungs so it doesn't travel back to Bowie, his hair getting mussed in the wind, making him look a little wild.

Of course he’s a little nervous, he was nervous meeting any new person. Diagnosed social anxiety will do that to a person. But now he’s gotta worry about making a good impression for once, Mickey can’t remember a time in his life where he had made a decent first introduction. Certainly not with Ian, not with Josey either. 

“Hey” Ian says softly, his hand moving from the wheel to the center dash, palm up waiting expectantly and Mickey gives in, he’s not really reluctant about it. Because Ian’s like a sedative, like Ativan injected to ease his anxious tendencies. 

Ian’s watching him from the corner of his eye as he drives, his eyes moving over every minute or so to check on him and it's sweet really, that he’s worried about him. Usually that’s something that would bother Mickey, things like pity and concern never sitting right with him. He chalks it up to the way he was raised, always doing whatever the fuck he wanted without anyone to tell him to watch out or be careful.

Mickey takes another long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke burn in his lungs for a few long seconds before blowing it out slow. He moves the burning stick over to Ians side of the car, holding it in front of Ian's face, filter facing him, and Ian leans forward into it, lips brushing Mickey’s fingers as he takes a long drag himself. He gives an appreciative smile after Ian blows his smoke out of the window as well. 

“We can stop by the hotel after we pick up some stuff for Bowie. I just wanna see you for a while, before we do the whole meet the family thing.” Ian’s thumb is rubbing over the top of Mickey’s hand and it’s not soothing all of his stress, but it's taking some.

“You got a hotel?” Mickey asks, and it sounds a little strained from his current state of worry but also a little embarrassed maybe, cheeks turning a lighter shade of pink on their own accord. Because Mickey knows Ian had been staying at his childhood home for the past few days, sleeping on his old bed, definitely not taking the liberty to pay for a room elsewhere.

Ian’s looking a little flushed himself as Mickey looks over at him expectantly, flicking the cigarette out the window so he could fully focus on his partner now. 

Something like a cough leaves Ian’s lips, a throat clearing and Mickey swears he feels Ian’s palm start to sweat a little on his own. “I figured it’d be nice for us to have a little privacy, sharing a room with my brother might be a little awkward.” And yeah that makes sense to Mickey, but there's something else there, something unspoken yet so clear to Mickey. Because they’ve been having sex, trying new things, talking about trying new things and Ians anticipating having sex tonight. Mickey’s a little nervous, because he thinks that maybe today’s the day Ian sees him without any clothes on, and he really meant to start working out a few weeks ago, he just never fucking got around to it, okay? So his stomachs still soft, kinda pooches out a little over his pants and he’s got a little bit of a muffin top from way too many muffin tops. 

Sue him if he’s a little self conscious about it, because Ian’s fit, not just skinny. He’s got toned biceps and abs that show through his skin tight shirts, broad shoulders that Mickey loves to grab on to, his hips narrow and sharp. And he’s going to be looking at Mickey, touching him, his hips, thighs, stomach. All of it. He’s worried he may not like what he feels, what he sees under the loose fitting shirts.

Ian squeezes at his hand after a moment of silence, he knows how hard Mickey’s thinking, maybe looks a little more stressed than he already was. “We don’t have to do anything.” He says reassuringly. “I promise I'm happy with you just being here.” 

Mickey lets out a sigh that he didn't know he was holding. It’s not like he doesn't want to, because he does, really really does. Thinks about it a lot actually, and ever since last night he can't really get the thought of Ians fingers out of his mind, stretching him open in a way he’s never been before. He’s never tried it, doesn't really know what to expect but the thought of it still gets him growing hard, just the slightest bit. And the fact that Ian wants to, thinks about it too, makes him that much more excited.

Mickey squeezes Ians hand, a sort of thank you without words and it makes Ians lips turn up just the slightest bit. 

He chooses not to speak on the topic, decides maybe he should think on what he really wants first. 

“There’s a pet store up here on the right.” Mickey speaks, his hand pointing to a strip mall coming up, the PetSmart sign looking a little beaten and worn in the distance.

\---

The hotel's nice, clean, Mickey can tell Ian paid a little extra to get something a little cozier for them, something outside of the southside that's most definitely not infested with bed bugs. There're large windows stretching across the end of the room and they’ve got a decent view of the city, it only being partially obscured by the building next to them. Bowie found himself a nice perch on the window there.

Ian’s busy getting the cat’s litter box all set up as Mickey takes a look around the room. Tan walls, warm, inviting, a red comforter covered queen-sized bed pushed against the right side of the wall. The white sheets tucked neatly into the mattress. And there’s a couch, navy with a diamond type patterned stitched into it and Mickey moves to sit there, leaning his head back just trying to relax.

“Fiona’s cooking dinner tonight for us, stir fry I think.” Ian calls from the corner of the room, the window by Bowie.

“Fucking starving.” Mickey says, remembering that he had been too nervous to eat earlier, too stressed to remember.

“I’ve got some chips and cookies in my bag if you want something?” Ian asks sweetly, rising once he put the cat's water bowl down. 

“Cookies.” Mickey says a little flushed, his sweet tooth chanting at him. 

“They’re not even close to the ones you make, but they’re alright.” Ian grins teasingly as he hands Mickey a package of gas station chocolate chip cookies. 

Mickey chews absently as Ian goes back to pouring the litter out, grabbing bowie from the sill to show him where it is. And Mickey finds his mind wandering.

Mickey’s looking at the bed again, thinking about how they’re going to be sharing it tonight. And a flash of their last overnight together flashes through his mind, thinks about their first time doing anything together and how good it had been.

“What's on your mind?” Ian says softly, moving to sit next to Mickey on the couch.

And Mickey dreads it, but he knows that if he wants everything to work out with Ian, no bumps or awkward moments, then he needs to start communicating. 

He sets his now empty wrapper on the little table beside the couch. “What you said last night on the phone.” Mickey speaks, his left hand fingers picking at the right thumb nervously now.

He feels Ian tense up next to him, know’s that he’s starting to worry that he’d said something wrong. “Was that,” He pauses “okay?” 

“Yeah, yes.” Mickey lets out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. “I've just, I've never-” Mickey’s stumbling over his words a little bit.

“Bottomed?” Ian asks, hitting the nail on the head. Mickey’s relieved that Ian had said it for him. “We don't have to do it like that.” Ian reassures quickly. “If you're not comfortable with it, I'd bottom for you. If you even wanted to do that.” He starts to ramble nervously.

“No” Mickey huffs a laugh. “I’m not uncomfortable with it, I wanna try it.” Mickey admits. “Been thinking about it, I just wanted to let you know beforehand that I have absolutely no idea what the fuck I’m doing.” 

And now Ian’s got that relieved smile on his face, something soft and understanding. “That’s more than okay. We do it at your pace.”

Ian’s so goddamn sweet and considerate and Mickey’s really fucking missed him, So he reaches over, fingers cupping around the back of his neck to bring him closer. Pressing their lips together, in something slow, something that says I missed you and thank you.

It doesn't take long for things to escalate because they’re both young and horny and haven’t touched each other in days. And Ians beginning to lay Mickey back on the couch, despite the bed being only a few feet away. 

And Mickey’s heaving, wanting to drag Ian between his legs and rut, maybe reach into his boxers and feel the warm smooth skin along his cock. But he feels a pair of beady eyes on his as he shifts his head over, Ians lips trailing down his neck now. 

Bowie’s staring at them and Mickey feels like he’s scarring his child here. “Wait, wait.” Mickey says and Ians pulling off quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, concerned.

Mickey laughs, “Nothing you did.” He reassures. “We just can’t do this in front of the cat.” Mickey nods his head over to where Bowie is sitting on the bed. Ian laughs, his head falling down to Mickey’s shoulder briefly before he’s sitting up. 

“You’re cute.” Ian says softly, understanding. Hand moving to adjust the hard-on in his jeans.

But Mickey’s watching him, and he wants him so fucking much, wants him close, wants his hands on him, any way. Every way.

“Bathroom?” Mickey asks hopefully and Ian’s raising his eyebrows, grin stretched across his face.

“Fuck yeah.” He laughs

Ian stops on their way to reach down into his bag for something, pulling out a bottle of lube.

Mickey looks at him with his eyebrows high, teasing, and Ians looking a little bit like he just got caught doing something he’s not supposed to. “Not assuming.” He says quickly, “Just in case.”

“come on then.” Mickey laughs, walking into the bathroom finally. 

And Mickey's a little nervous when he does it, takes off his shirt for Ian for the first time and he tries not to think too much about it. Tries to push the worries to the very back of his mind.

Ian’s finally at the door behind him, walking in and shutting it. His eyes are glued on Mickey, raking his body and his pupils are widened with lust and he’s biting at the corner of his lips as he looks at Mickey. The way Ian’s looking at him sends a surge of confidence as Mickey begins to strip his clothes until he’s bare. 

Ian remains still just watching until Mickey reaches over to turn the water on in the shower, testing the heat before stepping in. And he hears Ian start to move, looks out to see him shedding his clothes quickly, nearly tripping trying to get his jeans off.

Ian’s stepping under the warm spray, water trickling over his hair, making it a deeper shade of red, dropping to his neck to ripple down over his muscles. And Mickey can’t stop looking at him, and it’s not because he’s got a 6 pack or some shit, it wasn’t about how ‘hot’ Ian was. It was just because it all was a part of him, part of who he wanted to be and Mickey would accept any version of Ian he wanted to give him.

Ian’s pushing close to him, hands reaching out to smooth over Mickey’s hips, his eyes following his hands as they trail over his sides, his naval, up and over to one of his nipples and Mickey lets out a short gasp.

Mickey's hands are in Ian’s hair so quick, fingers raking through the wet strand to pull Ian’s lips down to meet his. The kiss is heavy. fast, slick slides of lips, teeth clacking occasionally with desperation to just be closers. Ian’s pushing Mickey into the shower wall, cool tile contrasting with the heat radiating from Ian’s chest.

He feels the brush of Ian’s cock, hard against his stomach. And Mickeys impossibly hard himself. The tongue dipping into his mouth to rub against his own making his knees feel a little weak.

“Want it.” Mickey gasps, unable to wait anymore. “Want you to touch me.”

Ian’s moving his head back to look at him, eyes blazing with want. “In you or on you?” Ian asks simply, knowing that Mickey won’t ask outright for Ian to finger him.

“In.” Mickey breathes. “In, please.” And he’s looking at Ian, the way he licks at his lips hungrily as he reaches for the lube bottle on the top of the shower doors metal frame.

“Will you turn around for me?” Ian asks in a way that sends a shiver down Mickey's spine. It’s something sweet yet demanding. awakens something in Mickey as he follows his direction.

He hears the clicking sound of the bottle being opened, a few seconds later a hand is on his hips, pulling them back a little. “want you to bend your hips a little, okay? tell me if you want me to stop.” Ians close to his ear when he says it, breath ghosting over his neck and Mickey's shivering in the best way.

Mickey nods eagerly, pushing his hips back and bringing his arms up against the wall to support himself. He feels a finger slowly drag down the cleft of his ass, moving to ghost over his hole. 

Mickeys fists are balling against the tile, chest heaving with want. When Ian pushes a finger in finally, it’s a little weird, just some pressure, some stretching. But it’s not uncomfortable and it’s not scary and Ian’s squeezing at his other hip like he’s reminding him that he’s okay.

He begins to move his finger in and out, slowly, letting Mickey get used to the slow slide, the stretch of it. “I’m gonna add another, you doing okay?” Ian asks breathily, his voice a little strained. 

Mickeys nodding his head. “Yeah I’m good.” he says genuinely. And then Ian’s pushing another finger in, the stretch burning more than the last and Ian just leaves his fingers there for a moment, unmoving. “Try to relax.” Ian soothes.

Mickey takes a long deep breath, relaxes his spine, feels himself get used to the fingers, the burn turning into just a pressure. “You can move em.” Mickey whispered 

Ian starts to move his fingers, the two feeling a lot different than the one, filling him up more, and the slide of his fingers this time has Mickey's legs shaking, has him letting out these short gasps. He feels Ian press into his back, his fingers reaching a little deeper as he kisses at Mickey’s shoulder.

“Feels good.” Mickey whispers honestly.

“Yeah?” Ian asks, voice thick. His fingers moving in and out, in and out. And Mickeys moaning with it. in and out, in and out. Ian’s curling his fingers on the way out this time, rubbing up against his prostate.

Mickey lets out a shout, his head falling down between his arms as he pushes back into Ian’s finger. “Holy shit, fuck.” He moving his hips back more trying to get the same friction. “There, again.” He pleads.

“I got you, look so good like this.” Ian encourages, his fingers moving to massage at the bundle of nerves and Mickey feels like he’s fucking soaring. “Oh my god, Ian” Ian’s name leaves his mouth as more of a prayer. It’s the last coherent thing he remembers saying Because then Ian’s just rubbing at his prostate, dead on as Mickeys shaking apart, speechless, the only thing leaving his mouth are gasps and whimpers and he can feel Ian rutting against the side of his ass, it stirring him on more, making his pleasure skyrocket. 

Then Ian’s grabbing at Mickey’s dick, giving it a few pumps before Mickey’s legs shake hard, his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks and he’s shouting with it. He can feel him clenching around Ian’s fingers, the orgasm feeling so much deeper, so much more fulfilling. Ian’s name leaving his lips as he spills onto Ian’s hand because of it.

Ian’s turning him around, to bring him into his chest, just hugging him, feeling him close. “wanna get you off too.” Mickey says softly, his hand moving from his chest slowly down towards his stomach. 

“Already did.” Ian chuckles and Mickey looks up to see his cheeks are flushed, maybe a little embarrassed. “Seeing you like that, just-“ Ian’s having a hard time finishing his sentence.

“I know” Mickey says with a smile, because he remembers how he felt when he had sucked Ian off, heard his moans and knew that his mouth was the thing giving him so much pleasure.

Later on, after they drag themselves out of the shower, all wobbly and a little pruny now. Clean set of clothes put on. Ian finally asks what Mickey thinks he’s wanted to ask since Mickey came.

“What did you think?” Ian sounds nervous, and Mickey wonders if he isn’t remembering how much he enjoyed it.

“Best orgasm I ever had.” Mickey says honestly and Ian looks a mix between happy and relieved. 

“So you wouldn't mind doing it again?”

Mickey smiles softly, laughing gently. “Wouldn't mind.”

They go back to getting ready, trying to make it a little less obvious for others that they had just had sex less than 15 minutes ago. And Mickeys drying his hair in the bathroom when he starts thinking, brushing his teeth when he makes his decision.

“Hey, Ian?” Mickey calls from the bathroom.

Ian calls back a yeah? 

“You think someone in your family could watch Bowie tonight?”

Mickey hears the sound of something clattering to the floor, and a swear maybe. “yeah I’ll talk to em.” his voice a little uneven making Mickey laugh.

-

2:34pm Ian: I need you to watch the cat for me tonight.

2:35pm Lip: What the fuck for?

2:35 pmIan: Please just do it, I rarely ask you for favors.

2:37pm Lip: Didn’t say no dipshit just want to know what for.

2:38pm Ian: You’ll take her?

2:40pm Lip: Whatever. This a sex thing?

2:56pm Lip: Okay, definitely a sex thing.

\---

Introductions are a little awkward, as Mickey expected them to be. But they weren't so bad and his anxiety always makes shit out to be worse than it actually is, he knows that.  
They were all nice for the most part, Fiona pulling him into a hug he wasn't really prepared for. His youngest brother Liam, who Ian was apparently 100% blood related to, going for a formal handshake. Lip was a little sarcastic, a bit of an asshole if Mickey’s being honest but he had expected that from Ian’s older brother. And Mickey’s not really one to judge because he’s sort of an asshole himself.

They’ve all kind of gone back to doing their own thing, Ian sitting at the kitchen table talking to his brother, and it's fine because Mickey’s in the kitchen with Fiona, helping her chop up zucchini for dinner and it feels fine. It’s not scary, Mickey’s relaxed, feels like maybe he can let his guard down a little. And she’s been talking to him here and there, when she’s not shouting over at the boys at the table or telling carl to stop banging around in the living room because it's scaring the cat.

“He’s never brought a boy to meet us before.” Fiona spoke just low enough so only he could hear her. And that shocks Mickey a little bit because surely there have been people before Mickey. “He was never the serious relationship kind of guy, but he’s different now.” She says with a smile.

Mickey feels his chest start to swell a little bit with admiration for Ian. “Yeah, well he’s changing me too.” Mickey said with a soft laugh. 

She’s giving him a warm smile now. “He’s been talking about you nonstop since he got here, y'know. We were all kind of shocked to hear you were a Milkovich.”

Mickey chuckles at that, nodding his head as he moves his chopped vegetables into a pan. “I suppose you would be.”

“Not a bad thing.” She patted at his back. “Just unexpected.” He really likes Fiona Gallagher.

\--- 

Ian -

The Gallagher’s are surprisingly warm towards Mickey Ian finds, despite having a deep-seeded hate for his late father and a few of his brothers. Even Lip makes an effort to be nicer than usual to the guy, still a dick, but toned down. If you didn’t know Lip that well you’d think he disliked you. 

But Ian thinks that it might actually be the case as the both of them, still sitting at the kitchen table watch Mickey sitting on the floor with Franny, and she’s got her little play kitchen set up in their living room and Mickey’s acting like he’s a guest at her restaurant. It’s the cutest fucking thing Ians ever seen.

“When you said you were bringing home a Milkovich, I sure as shit didn't expect that.” Lip laughs, nodding to the scene in front of them. 

Ian smiles into his beer bottle as Mickey acts like he’s eating whatever plastic food she gave him, he’s turning to Freddy, who’s sitting in his little walker toy, tapping his toes on the ground where his feet cant completely touch yet, screaming happily as Mickey talks to him as if he’s a grown adult that knows what the fuck he’s saying.

Ian loves kids, loves his niece and nephew more than anything but he never really thought about having a few of his own. But he’s looking at Mickey now, bright expressive eyes as he pretends to mix a bunch of fake vegetables in a bowl, he looks like he’s explaining something to Franny and she’s nodding seriously, taking in every word he’s saying. And Ian knows it has not been long since they started dating, but Mickey Milkovich has been on his mind since he was 15 years old and he knows, more than he’s ever known anything. That he wants a family with this man. 

“I tried to tell you a while back.” Ian stated, because he told Lip about Mickey when he was younger, crush new and strong and Lip had told him to steer clear of the Milkovich bunch.

“Shit man, you thought Kash hung the fucking moon, so forgive me if I didn’t trust your judgement.” Lips tapping his cigarette lighter against one of Ian’s empty beer bottles. “He’s nice though, seem’s good for you.”

“Yeah.” Ian speaks softly, his eyes turning to his brother. “Yeah, he is.”

“Uncle Ian, look!” Franny shouts, pulling Mickey by his hand into the room. And he’s got one of Franny’s little crowns sitting on the top of his head and Ian feels nothing but admiration for the man.

“Are you tormenting Mickey?” Ian poked at Franny before standing up to Mickey’s  
height. 

“No, he’s a prince!” And Ian hears Lip laughing behind him.

“Guess that makes you my servant.” Mickey jokes and his smile is bright as he looks at Ian, happy.

Franny gasps next to Mickey. “No, uncle Ian is a prince too.”

Mickey pretends to be wounded at her words, his U-UP hand moving to his chest. “I thought I was special or something but you’re just crowning everyone.

“Princes can only marry other Princes and Princesses, so Ian’s has to be a prince.” She insists, face serious.

And Ian see’s the blush rise to Mickey’s cheeks at her words. “I guess you’re right on that one.”

Ian leans over to kiss Mickey’s reddened cheek, temptation too strong to fight any longer. And Mickey’s shoving at him playfully. “You’re no fucking help.” Mickey says under his breath to Ian, the smile never leaving his face.

\---

Thursday Night, September 17th

Mickey -

“You’re bluffing man, there’s no fucking way.” Lip says across the table from Mickey. The older Gallaghers are at the kitchen table now, Fiona, Lip, Debbie, and Carl surrounding the pair. They’re all playing poker, save Ian, who had opted out, always losing a lot more money than he gained. 

Ian’s sitting next to him, looking over at Mickey’s card with an expression that is unreadable. Which wouldn't matter anyway because Mickey’s sure he’s winning this round no matter what.

“You sure about that, bigshot?” Mickey eggs Lip on to either fold or throw his money in the pot. 

“I'll raise you $20.” Lip speaks cockily. The rest of the Gallaghers fold, not willing to lose any more of their money. 

And Mickey just looks at his cards for a few seconds, a royal flush. He knows he can win this round. Know’s he’d take a few couple hundred off the table if he counters Lips' raise. But Lip’s gotta fucking kid, and he’s paying rent on a new home and no doubt working his ass off for it. And Mickey knows what it's like to not have anything, remembers what it was like to scrounge for change just for some packs of ramen noodles. 

It’s not pity, or charity when he does it. When he lays his cards down on the table, facing down. “I fold.” He’s doing it out of respect for the brother of someone he cares about. He’s doing it to watch out for someone that grew up like he did. And he can see Ian looking at him a little confused. 

The front door is opening, before Ian has time to say anything. And a blonde woman is walking in, Lips girlfriend Tami, Mickey assumes. But she’s not really paying attention, is kind of just holding the door open as she takes in the table of money, watching as Lip rakes all the cash in. And then Bowies running out the door, a quick bolt before Mickey even has time to rise from his chair. 

“Shit what the hell was that?” She gasps surprised and Mickey’s standing, moving his way over to the door to go after her. 

“My cat.” Mickey grumbles, and he doesn’t mean to sound like a dick when he says it but his fucking cat just ran out into the streets of southside Chicago, and you pass at least 20 lost pet posters coming in from the city, so Mickey’s a little fucking stressed. 

They’re all standing out in the yard with him now, Ian rushing to his side. “We’ll find him, Mick.” He says softly.

“We should split up.” Lip interjects coming from the house with a few flashlights in his hand, handing them out. Everyone's nodding in agreement. 

Ian and Mickey begin to walk towards the back of the house together before Lip stops them. “Hey man, I’m gonna go with Mickey.” Lip says, and Ian’s eyebrows are rising at him. As if to ask if he’s serious.

“Just fucking go man.” Lip says, shooing Ian away.

And Mickey’s not making much of it because he’s just trying to find his fucking cat. They’re making their way into the backyard, flashlights looking into the crawl spaces under the house.

“Why’d you do it?” 

“What?” Mickey asks confused, moving to look under the back porch steps.

“I saw your hand. Royal flush. So why’d you fold.” He says and Mickey can tell he’s a little pissed, his pride hurt.

“Don’t make it a big fucking deal.” Mickey sighs, walking toward the back road of the neighborhood.

“I don’t need a fucking hand out.” Lip says angrily. “What? You think you’re better than me cause you got out? Making 6 figures no doubt with some fancy apartment, huh?”

And Mickey’s trying to keep himself from yelling at him now. Because he gets where he’s coming from. Mickey thinks he’d probably beat the shit out of someone who did it to him.

“Listen man, it’s not like that.” His voice comes out calm, hoping it’ll calm Lip down as well before Mickey gets a fist to the face. “I know what it’s like, still have that mindset sometimes too, like I'm living paycheck to paycheck or some shit. I know how it is, and I wish someone had looked out for me back then.”

And Lips not looking as angry anymore, still pissed, but not so pissed that he could give Mickey a black eye. Lip pulls a few bills from his pocket, shoving them at Mickey. “It’s the money you put down for the hand.” And Mickey takes it without a word, doesn’t insist he keep it, because it's not charity, it's not a handout. Mickey’s respect grows for Lip as he nods at him, a sort of truce.

“Mick!” He hears Ian shout, jogging up to them now. “We found her, Fiona just took her inside.” A wave of relief washes over Mickey and he can tell that Ian knows something just happened between him and Lip, the air still a little tense around them.

“We should get going,” Ian says softly to Mickey, and he’s thankful.

“Thank you” Ian says softly on their ride back to the hotel. “For what you did for Lip. I know he wasn't appreciative, but I am.”

And Mickey just squeezes his hand, rubs his thumb over the top. They don’t speak anymore about it.

\---

The hotel sheets are soft under his fingers, and the clean smell is mixing well with whatever deodorant Ian used recently, he’s not wearing his cologne today, figures maybe he left it at home with all his other nonessential things. They’re just laying there, Ians arm underneath Mickey's head as it lays on his shoulder, between the V of his armpit. 

The TV’s on, the volume low but still audible as Ian scrolls through the guide on the screen. They had watched chopped for a little bit, as per Mickey’s request and he’s so relaxed, with the feeling of heat from Ian's body, and the slow movements of Ians chest as he breathes  
.  
He watches as the words dirty dancing show on the screen and Mickey’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment as Ian settles on it. Because of course Ian had remembered that Mandy told him about his small Patrick Swayze crush and of course he would do some thoughtfully sweet shit like watch a cheesy 80’s rom-com because he knew that Mickey would like it. 

Mickey refused to comment on it, just tried to play it off like maybe Ian had selected the movie because it was something he wanted to watch. 

The movies about 30 minutes in already when they start it, but Mickey’s having a real hard time with focusing as Ian’s fingers move slowly up and down Mickey’s back, the touch is barely there yet so fucking distracting. It’s sending chills down his spine, putting goosebumps on his arms and his eyes flutter shut for just a moment, relishing in the gentle touches.

He shifts onto his side a little more towards Ian, giving him more access to his back, Mickey’s hand moving from his side to lay against Ians flat stomach, his palm smoothing against the muscle there, just feeling. He feels Ian’s stomach quiver with his touch as Mickey’s hand brushes just below where his belly button sits. 

“Mickey.” Ian's voice cuts through the quiet noise of the TV, it coming out a little raspy, the sound of it making his heart kick. “Wanna kiss you.”

And how could he deny the man something like that? Mickeys turning his head up towards Ian, his neck stretching just a little bit to get closer to Ian. Ian’s free hand moves to Mickey’s cheek and he’s not kissing him yet, he’s just looking at him with soft green eyes, they’re just scanning his face and he’s got the smallest smile. It’s so genuine and so sweet and it makes Mickey feel seen, held, loved.

Mickey pushed forward just a little bit more so that he can finally capture the other man’s lips, but he moves his head back a little, his genuine smile and soft eyes now holding something teasing. 

“Come on,” Mickey pleads, so so quiet. A whisper shared between lips and Ian’s still not giving in quite yet. Instead he’s moving his head to kiss at Mickey’s cheeks, a light brush of lips there that moves to his forehead, his temple, his jaw. Mickey feels a little lightheaded with the attention, his stomach a fluttering mess as his fingers wrap into Ian’s shirt. Then he’s kissing so slow down Mickey’s neck and the faintest gasp is coaxed from his lips at the feeling. He’s not biting, just grazing his teeth barely against the flesh there, his tongue coming out to taste him. 

Mickey can feel himself starting to get hard at the contact, and Ian’s not doing much at all but it feels like a lot, feels more intense than anything he’s ever experienced.

“Kiss me?” Mickey asks, his voice quiet but carrying so much emotion.

Ian does, his lips moving finally to brush against Mickey’s. And it's not quite a kiss yet, just the ghost of his lips there as they just kind of breathe into each other. “Want you.” Ian says in a breath between their lips and Mickey’s nodding with it, mouth pushing forward to finally connect their lips and it feels like Mickey's breathing for the first time, a sort of relief that's filling his body up.

Their lips are moving at a steady pace, just feeling each other, breathing each other in through their noses. And Mickey’s never been held this gently before, Ians arm wrapped around his back, steadying him, keeping him close. His other hand on his cheek, thumb brushing at the warmth there before it makes its way to cup at the back of Mickey’s head, cradling it like it's something so fragile. Everything is just so sweet, so slow, and it's so so much. It’s setting a fire in his stomach that he really can't ignore anymore. 

Mickey’s shifting now, pushing up onto his knees to straddle Ians waist. They’re just kind of looking at each other, Mickey taking in the flushed look of Ian’s cheeks and how it spreads down his neck and disappears into his shirt, his pupils blown wide and filled with something whole, fulfilling. Filling up every gap inside Mickey left empty before by bitter words of miserable people. And none of that mattered as he looked at Ian, his hand brushing at the hair laying against Ian’s forehead, the other resting against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming under his touch. All that mattered now was Ian. 

Ian’s leaning up, his arms wrapping securely around Mickey in a way that allows him the most physical contact, he pulling him in, chest to chest, bringing their lips to meet again. This time it's a little quicker, hungrier and Ians pushing his tongue past Mickey’s lips making a groan rise from the back of his throat. 

He’s gripping at Ian’s shirt, rucking it up with his hands until Ian gets the hint and pulls it from his body. He’s grabbing at the hem of Mickey’s shirt now too, looking at him as if to ask if it was okay, Mickey just lifts his arms over his head in response, letting Ian pull it off of him, his hands are on Mickey again, just as quickly as they left. Squeezing at his hips before moving up to brush at his nipples and he’s gasping at the sensitiveness there, his body humming with so much need, even more than before as he’s reaching to unbutton Ian’s pants. His lips at Ian’s neck, mouthing there the way Ian had done to him, hoping it felt just as good for him. 

“Mickey.” Ian says between pants as Mickey starts to pull at the denim of Ians jeans. “You gotta tell me what you want.” 

“Want you.” He says, something so close to a whine.

Ian’s head is throwing back as Mickey’s lips move back to his neck, nipping at the skin just enough to give him that pleasant sting, but not enough to bruise. “You want my mouth?” Ian pushes for a response, because apparently Mickey's not being clear enough.

Mickey’s shaking his head, pulling back from his neck to look at Ian now as his hand reaches into Ian’s boxers, hand wrapping around his hard cock to give it a pointed squeeze. Mickey’s not sure how to say what he wants, hoping his eyes are saying it for him.

Ians gasping at the pressure on his cock and he looks like he gets it now. “Oh.” He says a little breathless, eyes wide. “Are you sure?” He asks gently.

And Mickey knows he’s gotta use his words now, needs to reassure Ian that this isn't some impulse decision, that he’s ready. “Wanna do this with you.” And he did, he wanted this with Ian more than anything now, wanted to give Ian this piece of him. No matter what happened between them, now or in the future. Ian would always have this piece of him.

Ian’s smiling at him, its joy and it’s warmth and it loving and he’s whispering an okay that feels like so much more than one simple word. He’s got his palms flat against Mickey's back now as he moves him onto his back, pushes between his spread legs and he’s feeling so safe, surrounded by Ian.

“Let's get these off, yeah?” Ian asks, hands moving to the button on Mickey’s jeans. He sits up to help Ian push the fabric from his legs. Ians hand’s move to his boxers next. “These okay too?” Mickey answers by lifting his hips enough for Ian to pull them from under his ass and Ian has to stand at the end of the bed briefly to pull both the items off. 

There's a soft thud of Ian’s jeans hitting the floor as well, the weight of his cellphone in his pocket helping the jeans to drop quicker. Mickey’s eyes are glued on him, waiting, wanting as Ian takes his time to pull off his boxers. Ian’s chest is heaving, the muscles of his stomach moving with as he breathes and takes Mickey in as he lay on the bed, and Mickeys really starting to miss the pressure of Ian's body on his. 

He’s finally slipping his boxers off, his cock springing free. Mickeys biting at the corner of his lip at the sight of it and he’s getting impatient at the amount of distance between them. So he lifts his knees, spreading his legs open just a little bit as an invitation.

And Ian’s puffing out a breath from his now parted lips as his eyes rake over Mickey, he sees Ian's hardness twitch, sending a surge of arousal through Mickey as well. “Come here.” Mickey pleads.

Ian looks like he’s about to crawl onto the bed again but he stops short. “Fuck, hold on.” He makes a quick move towards the bathroom before coming out with the bottle of lube they used earlier and Mickey’s getting excited just looking at, craving that fullness from earlier. 

He’s back between Mickey’s legs instantly, mouths meeting for a few brief slide of lips before Ian’s mumbling. “You’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” And Mickey’s cheeks are turning even more red than they already are. 

Their bodies are close now, Ian’s chest brushing Mickey every time they breathe in, his cock brushing against Mickey's leg just barely. Ian moves his hand to Mickey thighs, his fingers stretching out over the thickness of them, squeezing just a little above his knee and it tickles Mickey a little bit and he’s squirming a little bit at it, a smile clear on his lips and Ian’s looking at him so fond.

“Ticklish?” His tone soft and teasing. “I’ll have to remember that.”

His hand moves up Mickey’s thighs and he can feel his legs start to shake a little bit with anticipation. “I’m gonna open you up, okay?” Ian asks, squeezing at the top of Mickey’s thighs, so close to where he’s aching. 

Mickey nods quickly, his hands moving to Ian’s biceps, his shoulders. “Please.”

Ian’s reaching for the bottle of lube, squeezing some out and rubbing it around with his fingers to warm it up for him. Mickey gasps as the wetness touches at his hole finally, Ian’s fingers just kind of rubbing in circles there for a moment before he finally pushes a finger in, and Mickey’s gasping with it, everything already feeling so good. He’s pushing a second finger in after a moment, just letting Mickey relax into the slow stretch before he begins to spread his fingers out inside. 

“Doing okay?” Ian asks gently and Mickey opens his eyes to look at him, he hadn't even realized he had closed them in the first place. He’s nodding, at a loss for words.

And then he’s adding a third finger and the stretch is a little uncomfortable now, that subtle burn returning and Mickey can't help but wince a little. “I got you, just relax.” Ian encourages. “Let me know if you want me to stop.” 

Mickey shakes his head immediately after he says it. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Ian lets out a low laugh and then he’s leaning down to mouth at Mickey’s collar bone, tongue dipping into the hollow there as he begins to move his fingers in and out at a steady pace. Mickey can feel the uncomfortable pressure start to turn into something pleasant. His finger brushes up against that little bundle of nerves in Mickey, and it's barely even a tap but Mickeys gasping and grasping at Ian with the feeling of it. 

“I’m ready.” Mickey says sure, and Ian knows better than to ask him again if he’s absolutely sure. 

His fingers pull out and Mickey’s whining with the loss. 

“Fuck.” Ian says “I’m sorry” Ian starts to pull off Mickey. “Gotta find a condom.”

Before Ian can make his way off the bed Mickey’s grabbing at him, his eyes making serious contact with Ian’s. “I’m clean.” and Ian’s eyes darken at the meaning behind it, at Mickey telling him they could do it, just them, skin to skin. 

“I got tested a couple weeks ago, haven't had anyone since-” Since Imet you, Mickey knows what Ian is trying to say.

Mickey’s pulling Ian back down to him, his hand at the back of Ian’s neck, the other moving to his cock as he moves it to press at his entrance. 

Ian starts to push in slowly and it's so different from his fingers, the flesh so much warmer, the skin soft compared to the calluses on Ians hands and It has Mickey’s mouth falling open, pants escaping his lips at the slow pressure of Ian’s cock sliding into him. 

Ian’s hand is gripping at Mickey’s hip tightly, the other resting next to Mickey’s head as he holds himself up. His eyes are squeezed shut, his chest heaving and he looks like he’s feeling really really good. 

It feels like an eternity until Ian’s long hardness finally bottoms out in Mickey and they're both so still and Mickey’s gripping tightly at Ian’s neck and bicep. Just breathing, feeling the fullness of it. 

“Okay?” Ian manages to let out, his eyes opening to look down at Mickey. 

Mickey’s nodding quickly, his hips shifting just the smallest bit. “You can move.” He says a little desperately. And then Ian’s dragging out of him so slowly until it's just the tip in him and then he’s pushing back in at the same pace. The drag of Ian’s cock feeling like heaven inside him. 

“Doing so good.” Ian whispers, his eyes moving all over Mickey’s face. “Taking me so well.” Ian grinds his hips into Mickey as he speaks and Mickey’s head throws back at the feeling as he lets out a long moan. 

And then Ian’s hips shift just so, brushing up against that spot inside Mickey. “Oh, fuck, fuck.” Mickey lets out through a gasp, his eyes rolling back. 

“There?” Ian asks knowingly, voice so soft, his hips moving just barely to brush against the spot, driving Mickey crazy. 

“More. Please.” Mickey begs, his legs moving to hook around Ians hips to pull them impossibly close, grinding his body up into Ian’s.

“Shh, I got you.” Ian’s voice soothing him as he moved desperately. 

Ian’s pulling out again before giving Mickey a thrust, going in quicker than he had before, and then he’s doing it again and again and Mickeys fucking speechless besides the gasps of oh and Ian. And then Ians moving his hand to Mickey’s back, lifting him up just a little bit before thrusting again, hitting Mickey’s prostate dead on.

“Jesus, Ian.” Mickey nearly shouts, his tone pitching just that bit higher with the pleasure of it. “Faster.”  
Ian complies, moving his hips in a steady building rhythm that has Mickey seeing stars. 

His back is arching before he realizes it, His hands moving to Ian’s back, nails digging in there as he pulls Ian into a needy kiss, lips dragging with urgency, a particularly sharp thrust leaving Mickey gasping into his mouth. And Ians pistoning his hips so firmly into Mickey and he can't even bring himself to kiss anymore, the pleasure too much to allow him to focus on anything else. 

“Need to come.” Mickey moans, nails dragging down the plane of Ian’s back, and Mickey knows it hasn't been long, maybe a few minutes but the pleasure is building so fast and he knows he’s not gonna last long. 

Ians fingers are wrapping around Mickey’s cock, pumping him in time with his thrust and then Mickey’s head is throwing back in a silent scream, nothing but a punch of a groan making its way past his lips as his legs shake with the intensity of it. He’s coming into Ian’s hand, can feel himself pulsing around Ian and Ian’s gripping at his hips tighter at the feeling, moaning and thrusting his way through Mickey’s orgasm before he’s falling right over the edge with him, his lips finding Mickey’s gasping one’s as he kisses through the pleasure surges. 

Eventually his hips stop and their lips part, and they just look at each other, Breaths evening out into something a little calmer and Mickey can feel his eyes start to prick with water. Ian looks concerned for a moment before he realizes his eyes are watering too, and then Mickey’s pulling him down into a hug, holding him so close and Mickey feels the wetness of Ians tears against his shoulder, causing Mickey’s to finally fall too. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Mickey whispers into Ian’s neck, letting Ian in completely. Giving that last bit of himself to Ian.

“I love you.” Ian whispers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i told myself i'd take a week or more to write this chapter, just to make sure it turned out how i wanted it to. But once i got started it felt like it sort of wrote itself. So here it is, i hope that you enjoyed it cause writing this chapter was a lot of fun.  
> lemme know what ya think.
> 
> if you wanna follow me on twitter or have any questions my handle and curious cat inbox are right in my carrd here https://micksgun.carrd.co/
> 
> roman


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey bakes another pineapple upside down cake.

Friday Morning, September 18th

Mickey -

There was something so intoxicating about waking up wrapped in the arms of Mickey Milkovich. Like a crackling fire burning through chopped pine. The smell, the warmth, not only encasing your body and your senses but your soul as well. Mickey’s warmth making him feel safe and secure, made him feel something so deep, something he didn't know he was capable of feeling, and he felt so much.

His fingers moved to brush at Mickey’s hair, the top of it growing longer over the past weeks to fall just over his eyebrows and Ian couldn't help but think that Mickey looked beautiful. Cheek pressed against Ian’s chest, mouth slightly parted and Ian could feel a little bit of wetness against his bare skin there. Eyelashes long and thick against his cheeks as he slept softly. His tattooed fingers laying loosely over Ian’s ribs, moving up and down with Ian’s shallow breaths. 

Mickey’s eyelashes flutter slowly when Ian’s hand brushes lightly at his cheek, the skin pale and soft. 

Mickey’s moving his head up, sort of blinking around for a second to remember where he is, he looks down to Ian’s chest to see the bit of drool there. He brings the blanket covering their bare bodies up to dry it, cheeks tinted red. “Sorry.” He whispers before moving his sleepy eyes to meet Ian’s.

Ian just shakes his head slowly, gentle smile on his lips. “Doesn’t bother me.” His hand moving to trace at the stubble along Mickey’s jaw, brushing down the column of his neck and Ian notices the faintest bruise has formed there, small and discolored, but it doesn't look one bit out of place. “How are you feeling?”

Mickey smiles at Ian’s gentle touches, his own hand moving to rest on Ian’s chest, just over his heart. “A little sore,” He admits but his eyes are twinkling in a way that says he doesn't mind.

“I mean,” Ian starts a little hesitantly. “You’re okay with everything that happened last night?” 

Mickey’s face changes a little bit, as if Ian’s speaking nonsense to him. “Did you miss the part where i told you i was falling in love with you, or what?”

Ian’s breath hitches a little bit at his words, because yeah, he’s used to saying it to Mickey by now but he certainly hasn't gotten used to Mickey feeling the same way. The words make his heart swell and his cock stir and his breath stutter. 

Mickey laughs gently. 

“What?” Ian says in more of a whisper, eyes searching Mickey’s face for any clue of what he might be laughing at. But it’s a happy laugh, something sweet and genuine.

“Nothing, just looked like me saying it turned you on or something. You got a love kink or something, big guy?” Mickey teased him gently, hand patting at his chest and Ian knows that it’s supposed to be a joke but really it didn't sound all that ridiculous. That the mere thought of Mickey loving him made burn red hot. 

“Fuck you.” Ian rolls his eyes back at him, just as playful. 

“Didn't deny it.” But Mickey’s voice has something different laced in it now, something low and sensual that makes Ian’s skin prick with goosebumps. 

Mickey has to know he’s hard now, the large tent in the thin blanket not doing much to cover his excitement. Mickey’s eyes are dark and lustful as they rake Ian’s body. His hand making a slow descent down Ian’s body now. Fingertips dragging so lightly down Ian’s sternum, making him shiver. Stomach quivering as his fingers trace back and forth over his navel. 

“Fuck, Mickey” Ian huffs out, breaths coming out long and slow as Ian tries to calm his racing heart. 

Mickey’s fingers move to brush at just the tip of Ian’s cock, the lightest touch but Ian’s leaking with it. He sees Mickey bite his lip at the bit of wetness he touches. He drags his finger slowly down the underside of Ian’s hardness, then back up torturously slow. 

“Mick.” He says his name and it comes out as more of a plea. More of a ‘Please do something. Anything.’

Mickey’s hand wraps loosely around his shaft now, giving him slow languid strokes and Ian lets out a sigh of relief at the full contact.

“Like waking up with you.” Mickey say’s sweetly and the words send a jolt down his spine, a soft moan leaving his mouth as Mickey continues to stroke him slowly. He sees something bright and teasing in Mickey’s eyes after it happens, like he’s just discovered a wonderful secret.

His hand tightens a little bit around his cock, giving Ian more friction. “Like the way you hold me.” Mickey says softly and Ian’s eyes are squeezing shut as his back arches with Mickey’s touch. 

Mickey’s hand twists on the upstroke, thumb gathering the wetness at the tip to drag it down Ian’s cock slowly. “You make me feel so safe.” Ian’s moaning loudly, hips pushing up into Mickey’s hand and he can feel his orgasm building at an embarrassingly quick rate. 

Then Mickey’s moving up, just that little bit to Ian’s ear, warm breath tickling him there. “Think I love you.” Mickey whispers and there’s a teasing moan coming from Mickey’s lips, lacing through the words. Ian’s gasping with it, back arching and body shuddering as he comes into his hand, chants of Mickey and oh god leaving his lips as he shakes through his orgasm. 

It takes him a minute to come out of it, his eyes clouded and his hearing a little fuzzy. He see’s Mickey wiping the come off his fingers with a pair of boxers they had stripped last night. Ian lets out a laugh, something full bellied and he’s looking at Mickey, who's got this teasing smirk on his face. 

“You little shit.” Ian laughs, tackling Mickey back onto the bed, hand’s moving to his sides to tickle him and Mickey’s laughing and squirming and Ian fucking adores him.

“Fucker, stop.” Mickey shouts between laughs and his hands move up to swat at Ian, nothing hard, just light thuds against his arms. Ian’s grabbing at his hand’s quickly, shoving them down against the mattress above his head. Fingers moving to lace together.

Ian’s just looking at him, so fucking in love and he’s moving his head down to kiss him, morning breath be damned as their lips slide together, slow and firm. He feel’s Mickey’s hard cock against his stomach, skin on skin and Mickey’s panting as Ian’s lips begin to trail down his neck, stopping to nip gently at his stomach, his hips, causing Mickey to gasp. 

And it’s fucking wonderful when Ian finally take’s Mickey into his mouth because Mickey’s panting and tugging at his hair and shaking. And Ian’s watching so intently as he works Mickey over with his mouth, watches him arch and gasp his name and Ian’s never seen anything more riveting then watching Mickey come, head thrown back with a gasp, jaw dropped wide as his thighs tighten around Ian.

\---

Ian -

They’re sitting around, now fresh and clean from the shower they just had together. This time really just showering together, hands massaging at each other's scalps, washcloths rubbing over shoulders and backs and stomachs to get rid of what dried come that was left on their skin from this morning and the night before. And its sweet, and it’s not at all sexual when they just stand under the spray, holding each other, the smell of Ian’s body wash on both of their skin, and it makes Ian a little happy to know that Mickey will be walking around all day with his scent lingering on him, reminding him of Ian even in the moments they’re not right next to each other.

“What’s on the Gallagher agenda today?” Mickey jokes, towel russling his hair to get the remaining wetness out. 

“Kev and V invited everyone to the bar tonight, Kev’s excited to see you apparently. I think Frank’s gonna be there too, Lip’s going to pick him up from the hospital this afternoon.” Ian’s pulling on his jeans when he witnessed Mickey’s shockingly excitable attitude.

“Kev?” Mickey chirps in, his eyes a little wide and then he’s grinning and Ian’s not 100% sure how he feels about that yet.

“You just got real excited there, should I be worried?” Ian tried to force it out as a joke and he hopes it’s not coming out as possessive or something. Because Ian’s not the possessive type.

Mickey’s face schools into something straight and cool. “The fuck are you talking about man?” Mickey scratches at his eyebrow.

Ian can’t help but laugh at how obvious he’s being. “That.” Ian says excitable. “Right there. You’re being weird.” He laughs, “I’m just wondering if I need to pull out my jealous boyfriend act tonight.

Mickey smirks a little bit after he says it, cheeks tinged rosey. “You sure it’s an act?”

Ian sent him a playful glare, waiting for him to explain his reaction. 

“It’s not like that.” Mickey grabs at Ian’s hand to pull him over onto the couch. “Kev was like the only person I felt like I could talk to. Used to feed me and give me free sodas and shit after school. Probably just felt bad because of the bruises and shit I always had.” Mickey pauses. “But it still gave me hope y’know? Like maybe there was some hope for people in the world.” Mickey smiles a little, fingers lacing with Ians against the cushions. “I didn’t trust a whole lot of people growing up, but I trusted Kev.”

Ian gives his hand a squeeze, bringing the tattooed knuckles to his lips. “I know that growing up with Terry was hard, I’m glad that you found a friend in Kev.” He says gently.

“I also had a huge crush on him in high school.” Mickey says lightly, lifting the mood to something more playful.

Ian raises his eyebrows at Mickey. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And okay maybe Ian was just the tiniest bit jealous. How could he not be? Because when Ian had been pining after Mickey from afar all scrawny and freckle faced, he was looking at a muscled Kev who at the time had to be in his mid twenties. .

—

Friday Afternoon

Mickey -

They’re sharing a cigarette again, this time allowing the smoke to flow freely through the car, windows down to air it out. They’re making their way toward the beat up streets of the Southside, the radio playing something with way too much synth in Mickey’s opinion. 

“Can we stop by a store?” Mickey asks, hand flicking the ash from the cigarette out the window. “Kinda wanted to make something for tonight.”

Ian’s eyes flickered over to him briefly, small smile on his lips. Mickey noticed that he didn’t see that smile leave his face very often. 

“Yeah, there’s one coming up here.”

-

They’re making their way down the isles, hand in hand. Ian holding his basket in a way that seems so familiar. And It's weird how domestic it feels to be in public like this, in the Southside of all things, holding hands with his boyfriend. It’s not a bad weird, just a little crazy in his opinion. Because if you had told Mickey 7 years ago that he would be doing this now, he’d probably have beat the shit out of you.

Mickey’s handing Ian a bag of sugar to put in the cart when Ian speaks. “What were you gonna make?”

Mickey shrugs cooly, grabbing a bag of flour as well. “I don’t know, was thinking pineapple upside down cake. You think that’d be alright?” Mickey asks, a little unsure.

But when he turns to Ian, he’s looking at him like Mickey’s just given him the best news, like Mickey’s just told him he won the lottery or something and Mickeys tilting his head at him a little, eyebrows scrunching together with a smile. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

Ian shakes his head, grin unmoving. “I’m just really happy s’all.”

And Mickey’s looking at him like he’s a little crazy despite the words putting butterflies in his stomach. Because Mickey thinks he knows the feeling.

“Cool it Pharrell, s’not like you’re getting any.” Mickey joked.

“Oh he’s got jokes.” Ians stepping towards him, closing that little space between them, eye’s moving to his lips and Mickey’s got this gut feeling he’s about to be kissed right in the middle of aisle five.

“I’m fuckin hilarious.” Mickey’s theory is proven correct when Ian leans down and kisses him soft, slow. Something a little more intimate than a peck before he pulls back and kisses Mickey’s forehead.

“You’re fucking weird.” Mickey says but his voice is giving him away, giving away just how much he’s fucking lying. Giving away just how much of an effect Ian has on him.

“Yeah, well you’re falling in love with me so maybe that makes you a little weird too”

Mickey huffs out a laugh as Ian throws a can of pineapple into the basket. This cocky motherfucker.

——

Mickey’s in the kitchen now, washing his hands after laying out some fresh food for Bowie.

“Do you think you can teach me some stuff? None of these assholes can cook toast without burning it.” Mickey's a little surprised at how mature the youngest Gallagher brother was. He couldn’t be older than 11 or 12 and yet Liam talked like he could be Mickey’s age or some shit, and it really threw him off. 

“I heard that, you little shit.” He hears a female voice shout from the room. Fiona. God he loved that feisty woman.

“Yeah, man.” Mickey steps aside, allowing space next to him in the Gallaghers kitchen. 

He’s unloading all of his grocery bags, getting everything set up after shoeing Ian out of the room because the fucker was being way to distracting. With soft kisses against the back of his neck and gentle touches to his sides that had Mickey just wanting to say fuck it all and spend the rest of his day just kissing him.

“From the way Lip talked about your family I really expected you to be an asshole.” Liam says bluntly, moving to help Mickey unpack the plastic bags.

“Who says I’m not?”

“Nah, you’re too grossly nice.” Liam shakes his head and he sounds a little disgusted, Mickey thinks it’s comical.

“It’s all an act, I’m just trying to get some of Frank's settlement money.” Mickey jokes, his voice trained serious.

“If any of the others brought someone home I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the plan. But you look at my brother the way that Frank looks at liquor.” Liam shakes his head. Mickey thinks about his words for just a second, recognizes the trust there. Liam thinks he’s nice, the rest of the Gallaghers fucking like him and Mickey’s shocked he has found himself making such a good impression.

“Alright, alright.” Mickey says with a chuckle. “Preheat that oven to 350 for me, will ya? Be a little useful.”

As Liam is turning back to him after turning the knob on the stove, he sees it, the formation of a bruise just on his collar bone, deep purple against his dark skin making it a little harder to notice. 

Mickey turns, grabbing some bowls out of the upper cabinet. “So, you got a girlfriend or anything?” Mickey asks casually, grabbing the measuring cups from the drawer.

“Dude, im 10.” He gives Mickey a look of disbelief. 

“So not a hickey then.” Mickey says, beginning to open the bag of sugar in front of him.

“What the fuck are you talking about.” And Mickey’s still a little weirded out hearing a 10 year old kid swear. Being away from the southside for so many years will do that to you. But in all honesty, Mickey had a potty mouth by the age of 6 and it only got worse from there.

Mickey points at his own collar bone when he turns to Liam briefly, and then Liams looking down himself, his chin blocking the view. Mickey pulls out his phone and puts the front camera on so Liam can see the damage.

He see’s Liam’s face twist a little bit. “It’s none of your business,” he says defensively.

Mickey throws his hands up in surrender, phone going back into his pocket before taking the measuring cup off the counter and passing it to Liam. “Measure out one cup of sugar for me.” He directed and Liam followed his direction silently.

It was quiet for a minute or two, Mickey just passing items to Liam. “I got picked on a lot when I was little.” Mickey admitted, grabbing a stick of butter to put into the microwave. 

“People made fun of you.” Disbelief clear on the younger boy's face. “You look like a pitbull.”

Mickey laughs, because yeah. Nowadays Mickey didn't have a problem with people coming up to him to start shit, his knuckle tattoos and years of training his face to say ‘speak to me and you die’ had paid off. 

“I used to be real fuckin short, chubby as hell too.” And It’s the first time Mickey’s talked about it in a while, and this time when he says it it's not filled with self loathing. It’s more of a part of him then something he pushes to forget about himself.

“You saying you’re not short now?” 

“Fuck you,” Mickey laughs, grabbing 2 eggs and handing them to Liam, gesturing to the bowl filled with dry ingredients. “My point is that i eventually had to learn to stick up for myself.” Mickey intentionally leaves out the part where he had spent years just taking it before he got to high school, grew a little and eventually just started beating up anyone who looked at him funny.

“How do you know I'm having trouble at school.” Liam begins to mix the ingredients awkwardly, the bowl being almost twice as wide as he is.

“Frank aint the hitting type.” Mickey stated, grabbing the spoon from Liam to help him stir everything to the right consistency. 

“You’d know?”

Mickey just shrugs at Liam’s question. Because yeah, he grew up around Terry and enough of Terry’s friends to know what the type was. Too many long nights of bruises and sore ribs would never let him forget it.

“How do i make it stop then?” Liam watched closely as Mickey opened up the canned fruit and handed it over to him, gesturing to the oil coated pan.

“You tell em you know a Milkovich, and if there's some reason in hell that don’t work. You grab em on the wrist.” Mickey’s hand came up to grab gently at Liam’s slender wrist. “You twist it, and you put pressure on this tendon here.” His thumb tapped at the underside of Liam’s wrist. “You press hard enough and they’ll think you’re about to break it.” Liam watches him intently, nodding. “And you tell em not to fuck with you anymore, alright?” 

\---

Friday Evening 

Ian -

“I heard you talking to Liam.”

It was about an hour later and they were on their way to The Alibi now, cake sitting firmly in Mickey’s grasp on his lap as he held it tightly, making sure it didn’t fall. Ian thought it was cute, the way he was protecting it like it was something so precious.

“Sorry if i overstepped.” Mickey says and he can tell he’s a little worried that Ian might be upset with him. “I just figure if the kids getting beat up that bad, the only way to really stop it in a place like this is to scare the shit out of em.”

Ian shakes his head, assuring Mickey that he isn't upset. “I woulda told him the same thing. We didn't grow up in the northside where you can just go find a teacher or a parent and get shit straightened out civilly. Just doesn’t work the same.”

Mickey nods, letting out a slow, steady breath. “I just hope it works for him. I’d hate to let the kid down.” He says honestly.

And Ian isnt sure why it shocks him the way that it does, because he knows how sweet and thoughtful Mickey is despite his efforts to cover it up. Knows that he’s a genuinely good guy but it still takes Ian by surprise. Because Mickey had opened up so quickly with his siblings, had been nice and considerate and seemed to genuinely like them. Ian had never imagined introducing one of his boyfriends to his family would go so smoothly. But he really should have guessed that with Mickey, nothing was predictable.

“You didn’t tell me about the bullying.” Ian says softly.

“Did you not just say you heard the conversation? I found out when you did, man.” 

Ian shook his head at just how oblivious his boyfriend was being. “Not Liam’s. Yours.”

Mickey went silent for a second after that, one of his hands moving to the center cup holder to grab at the pack of cigarettes. Ian grabbed at his hand instead, making him hold it. “I don’t know man, s’over now.” Mickey shrugged.

“I know in the grand scheme of things it doesn't seem like much.” Ian says softly. “But it still affects you, and that’s alright. I just want you to know that you can talk about it with me.”

Mickey wipes at his eye’s a little bit, but it’s dark in the car and the streetlights passing aren't doing much to help Ian see. He doesn't really need to though, he can tell that Mickey’s eyes are tearing up, years of bottled up emotion finally spewing out. 

It only takes a few seconds for Ian to pull the car over and put it into park, immediately grabbing Mickey to pull him into a hug. “Hey.” Ian says softly, lovingly. 

Mickey laughs a tear into Ian’s shoulder, arms coming up to wrap tightly around him. “M’not fucking crying.” He hears Mickey sniffle.

“I know.” Ian says back gently, rubbing at Mickey’s back soothingly. “I know just how strong you are.” He feels Mickey shake against him, the quietest sob leaving his mouth and Ian’s heart breaks a little. Hates to know that Mickey’s kept all of his pain bottled up for so long. Ian vows to never let Mickey keep it all inside ever again.

\---

Eventually Mickey gets his emotions under control and they make it to The Alibi. Mickey feels a little embarrassed that he had broken down in front of Ian, but he also knows that Ian gets it, that Ian really wants to be there for him. So Mickey swore to tell Ian about it when they got home, once they made it back to New York where Mickey felt the most comfortable.

“You sure you’re okay with doing this? I can tell them i’m feeling sick or something.” Ian says and Mickey leans over to kiss the sweet fuckers cheek. 

“Come on, no way in hell i'm letting this cake go to waste.” 

It’s a little jarring, walking into the ever so familiar bar. Nothing’s changed really, except there's not a flat screen TV hanging on the wall where there used to be a giant football poster and the 2 broken lightbulbs over the bar are finally fixed. 

Mickey can remember stumbling in at 15, being chased by a group of senior guy’s he had mistakenly talked back to his first day of high school. By then Mickey had learned to throw a few punches, but taking on 3 guys wasn't something Mickey thinks he could even do now. Then again Mickey got himself into a lot of dangerous situations he couldn't really handle back then. 

He often ended up right back here at the bar. Like he had on that day. To get patched up or just to find some asylum from the horrors of the southside streets. Kev had always been so nice to him, treating his prepubescent ass like an adult. Like a real fucking person for once. Like a friend.

“Well if it isn't the happy couple.” Frank calls drunkenly from the bar, half empty beer sloshing in his hand. “Mazzeltov.” 

“Shut the fuck up Frank.” He hears Kev’s voice, he turns his head to meet the sound, seeing him make his way around the bar. 

“Mickey fucking Milkovich.” He says with a warm grin, pulling Mickey into a back clapping hug. “Didn’t know if i’d see your ass around here again.”

“Didn’t think I’d be back either.” Mickey says honestly, returning Kev’s hug.

“Yeah i suppose getting in a relationship will do that to a guy.” Kev shoved at Ian playfully and Mickey caught just a hint of something bitter in Ian’s smile.

“I’m gonna go say hey to Lip.” Ian leaned down to whisper softly in his ear. Mickey nodded his head, still a little taken back.

He walked with Kev over to the bar to take a seat on a stool, missing Ian’s presence immediately as Kev moves behind the counter to pour him a beer.

“You don’t seem surprised.” Mickey pauses, taking the glass from Kevs hand, nodding a thank you. “That i’m, y’know.”

“Mick, I knew you were gay after a couple months of knowing you.” Kev gave him a look like he was saying something completely obvious. 

“No you fucking didn’t.” Mickey laughed, rolling his eyes and Kev’s nodding his head instantly.

“Hey man, I know you better than you think i do.”

\----

Ian -

Ian’s seething at this point, tapping at his glass like he is trying to communicate with Mickey across the bar with the tinking of his fingernails against the cup. Because Mickey’s laughing with Kev, that full bellied laugh that Ian’s gotten so used to seeing and he’s never really seen Mickey laugh like that with anyone else.

It makes him jealous as hell.

Lip snatches the glass from under his hand. “Man what the fuck is your deal? You look like you’re about to strangle Kev.” He snapped in front of his face to get Ian’s attention.

“Do you think Kev is hot?” Ian asks in aggravation.

Lip looked at him as if to say ‘are you fucking serious?’ 

“Yeah, I guess if you’re into the muscly, sweet type.” Tami said from next to Lip at the booth. Ian focused his glare on her now.

Lip laughed across from him now. “Well shit, maybe Mickey’s got a type.”

“I will fucking hit you.” Ian threatens, sending a look to his brother that reads ‘shut the fuck up, i’m not kidding.”

And Ian knows that Kev’s not even gay, knows that Mickey cares about Ian just about as much as Ian cares about him. But it still irritates him, that voice in the back of his head telling him that Kev was one of Mickey’s first real crushes.

“Carl.” He calls to his brother who’s sitting a couple tables over with Debbie and Fiona. “Come here for a second.”

\---

“So what’s next?” Kev asks, pouring Mickey another beer.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“You think you’ll do the whole TV thing forever?”

And Mickey hasn’t really sat down to think about it before, just kind of let things happen without really making any set plans for his future. But now that Mickey’s thinking about it, maybe Kev’s got a point.

“I don’t think so.” He turns to sneak a glance at Ian from across the bar, see’s him talking to Carl about something seriously. 

“It was good at first, really set me up for a lot of things, just maybe doesn't seem like something I see myself doing 5 years from now.”

“You used to talk a lot about starting your own business one day.” Kev says and sure, Mickey was probably talking about shit like drugs or stolen goods back then but right now it didn’t sound like such a dumb idea.

“Not everything you say is bullshit.” Mickey says with a grin, raising his glass up as a salute.

“Hey Kev, I think someone just threw up in the bathroom.” Carl comes up, grabbing their attention.

“Shit, I’ll be right back.”

And Mickey’s not fucking stupid, he knows there’s no mess in the bathroom. And he knows that Ian had put Carl up to the distraction. He also knows that Ian’s looking at his back right now, maybe waiting for him to make his way over to his table.

Mickey doesn't bite. Instead he grabs at the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and Makes his way to the front door.

He’s lighting up the cigarette between his lips when he hears the door open next to him. He doesn't need to look over to know who it is. 

It’s only a brief second of silence, just one quick inhale of the cigarette before Ian’s pulling it from his lips and flicking it to the ground. Mickey’s pressed into the brick now, Ian’s arms on either side of him caging him in. His heart starts to pound with excitement in his chest.

“You make me crazy.” Ian says lowly, just a whisper in the small space between them and Mickey’s watching his lips move as he speaks, flickering his eyes up to catch Ian’s heated glance and Mickey’s biting his lip with it.

Mickey doesn't fight the urge to press back against Ian. “This the jealous boyfriend act?” He says a little breathlessly. 

Ian doesn't answer, just moves his hand over to Mickey’s neck, thumb pressing into the small bruise there with no real force. Just enough pressure for Mickey to feel the pleasant sting from it.

“Car.” Mickey says quickly, grabbing at Ian’s arms to pull him towards his car parked at the road.

“What?” Ian asks, confused. “If you wanna leave, we gotta tell everyone first.”

“Just get in the car.” Mickey says impatient, sitting in the passenger seat. 

Once Ian’s finally in the car, key starting the ignition Mickey orders him again. “Pull into the alley.” 

Ian’s eyebrows raise with a smirk forming, finally getting with the program as he begins to pull out of his parking space.

Once the keys are out again Mickey is on him within seconds. Shuffling awkwardly over the center dash to straddle Ian’s waist, knees pressed again leather siding. 

Ian grabs at his face, pulling him down for a heated kiss. It’s messy, the quick slide of lips against desperate gasps of ‘more’ and ‘fuck’ and Mickey’s so fucking hard for it.

Pushing his ass down to grind into Ian’s hardened crotch causing him to gasp openly against Mickey’s lips, hips thrusting up against Mickey in a way that had him so desperate for that new fullness he had discovered. 

Mickey shoved back before making a quick exit into the backseat of the car, nearly tripping over the center console when his foot got caught and Ian’s following quickly behind him, long limbs getting caught along the way as well.

They’re both shoving their pants off in record time, nothing but heavy breaths and the sound of clothes rustling filling the car.

Mickey’s crawling into Ian’s lap again now, a gasp tearing through his lips at the sudden feeling of Ian’s hard cock pressed against his own. And Mickey’s rocking into it out of instinct, his body ordering him to do whatever feels good. Fuck did Ian make him feel good. 

Ian hand moves to grip at Mickey's ass, squeezing hard as he watches Mickey move on his lap. “holy shit.” He mumbled in amazement.

“Really want your cock right now.” Mickey says boldly, pressing his ass back into Ian’s hand.

“Fuck.” Ian says in a gasp, eyes widening with it. “Wallet. Fuck, can you grab my pants?” Ian stumbles through his words.

Normally Mickey would laugh at Ian’s clear frustration but he’s way too desperate for any of that. Too enraptured by the way Ian’s looking at him, like he’s looking at the sexiest thing he’s ever seen and that makes Mickey's body hum with want. Makes him crave Ian in every way possible.

Mickey grabs the wallet out of Ian’s discarded jeans passing it to him quickly before moving his lips to Ian’s jaw, kissing along his smoothness where that coarse hair had once been and Mickey really needs to tell him that the beard was sexy as hell and that he wouldn’t mind seeing it again.

Ian’s pulling a small packet of lube out of his wallet and Mickey’s never been so fucking glad to see a silver packet in his life. 

“Thank fuck you have that, i thought we were gonna have to use spit.”  
Mickey says with a soft laugh, warm vibrations into the side of Ian’s neck. Lips drifting until he finds that one spot that has Ian’s breath catching.

Ian’s huffing an airy laugh, fingers moving to cradle Mickey’s head. “You woulda done that?”

“Do anything to have you in me right now.” Mickey’s teeth scraping along that sensitive spot on Ian’s neck, causing Ian to shudder, which stirs Mickey on to begin sucking and biting at the spot.

Ian’s moaning with it, neck tilting to the side to give Mickey all the room he needs. He’s bucking his hips up with it, his cock sliding against Mickey’s hipbone and Mickey really fucking needs that cock right now.

Mickey grabbed at the packet in Ian’s hand, the other man moving too slow for his liking. Tearing open the packet with his teeth as Ian watched him dazed and wide eyed.

Mickey’s fingers are moving to prep himself quickly, one finger turning into two in a matter of seconds as he moves to open himself up as fast as he can.

“You look so good like this.” Ian breathes, one hand resting on his hip, the other drifting from his neck down to his nipple, pinching at the nub there, causing Mickey’s eyes to squeeze shut and his hips to stutter. 

“This the first time doing it yourself?” Ian asks and he’s genuinely curious, isn’t trying to do the whole dirty talk thing but somehow it’s really fucking working for Mickey as he adds a third finger, whining out a yes.

“holy shit.” Ian huffs, eyes flickering from Mickey’s arm disappearing behind him to Mickey’s face, with a look like he wants to devour Mickey whole. “you love it.” He says in amazement.

Mickey nods quickly, head falling back when his fingers brush over that one beautiful spot inside of him. “Been thinking about it all day.” Mickey says honestly, something Mickey would never admit out loud if he weren't crazy with lust.

“You ready for me?” Ian asks, hand on his hip moving back to Mickey’s ass, spreading him open a little wider before one of his fingers brushes at the tight rim stretched around Mickey’s fingers.

Mickey’s hand stills, mouth dropping open hotly to just watch Ian as he does it, lip between his teeth as he slides just the tip of his finger in along with Mickey’s.

Mickey’s fingers pull from him, the sudden emptiness almost making him whine as his hand grips around searching for the lube packet. Fingers finally hit the packaging against the leather seating and he grabs at it, squirting the remains onto his fingers before bringing the cool gel to Ian’s cock.

“Wo-ahh.” Ian body jerks at the coldness of it against his throbbing cock, both hands gripping at Mickey’s side for purchase. “Woah.” Ian says more pleasantly as Mickey begins to stoke him, slow up and down movements to warm the gel on his hardness.

Then Mickey is finally using his hand to help slide Ian’s cock slowly inside him, the tip already feeling way too good.

Once Mickey is fully seated onto Ian’s shaft, mouth dropping open at the new deepness of the position, at least an inch deeper than Ian had been the night before and it’s pressing right up against Mickey’s prostate. He’s gripping at Ian’s shoulders with the feeling.

“Use me.” Ian whispers, using his hand to shift Mickey’s hip just a little bit, sending sparks through Mickey’s body that has his gasping. “Do what makes you feel good.” 

And holy fuck Mickey really didn’t need to be told twice because now he’s rocking his hips, quick back and forth motions in Ian’s lap, cock just grinding up against Mickey’s prostate over and over sending little shocks of pleasure through his whole body. 

Mickey’s letting out long, higher pitched moans as his hips just grind faster and if Mickey weren’t so high on pleasure he’d be worried about any passerbys hearing him scream through the steamed windows of Ian’s car.

Ian’s at his neck, mouthing at that sensitive spot Mickey has behind his ear and Mickeys eyes are rolling back, back arching into Ian causing his own hard cock to rub against Ian’s stomach. The added sensation making him whimper.

He’s pulling close to Ian, chasing that friction as he wraps his arms tightly around Ian’s neck, hips moving up and down now in an effort to feel the slide of Ian’s skin against his cock. The movements making Ian’s cock rub up and down against his walls and Mickey’s legs are beginning to shake at the little jabs his cock is doing against Mickey’s prostate.

“Doing so good,” Ian praises through quick pants, Mickey can feel the way his stomach is tightening while his orgasm builds. “Feel so good.” He moans deep, the sound sending an extra shock through Mickey, making him suddenly desperate to come. Right fucking now.

Mickey starts moving his hips up and down at a rapid pace, riding Ian’s cock like it’s life or death and Ian’s head is throwing back against the cushion, mouth wide as he lets out a strangled groan.

“Oh god.” Mickey says in a gasp, nails digging just barely into Ian’s neck. Ian thrusts his hips up into Mickey, meeting him on his downstroke, giving Mickey’s prostate a particular hard jab. “Oh god.” Mickey shouts, voice high with want. “Right there, right there.” Mickey chants and then they’re both moving together, quick hard thrusts and Mickeys orgasm is building so fucking quick and he knows he’s seconds away from going off like a firecracker. 

Ian grabs at his face, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, the contact hard to keep because of their quick movements. just lips brushing between pants, tongues moving out just briefly to catch at lips. And apparently that’s not working for Ian because he’s pulling Mickey in tight against him, using his leverage to push Mickey to lay down against the seat. Tongue moving in to devour Mickey’s moans and Mickey’s shaking apart with the hard cants of Ian’s hips, Ian’s hands holding his hips in the air to get that perfect angle and the thrusts are slower now, making him feel so fucking full and Mickey’s barely hanging on. Right on the edge of something mind blowing.

“Come on sugar, you got this.” Ian whispers softly against his lips and then Mickey is coming with a long whine, whole body shaking with the power of it and his vision goes white as he pulses around Ian, and holy shit they’re doing this every day for the rest of their lives, Mickey swears.

Ian’s pulling out quickly, eyes watching Mickey, all blissed out and panting as he jerks his cock until he comes with a gasp into his hands. 

Mickey laughs a little, because he’s happy at least one of them is responsible. Because Mickey would have let him come inside him, would’ve just had to deal with the come dripping out of him the rest of his night, no doubt giving him the most embarrassingly obvious stain on his pants.

—-

They’re a little rosy cheeked when they return to the bar, hair a little mussed up despite trying to smooth it out and Debbies giving them this look the second they walk in like she knew exactly what had just happened out there.

“Went out for a smoke.” Ian says, no too convincing.

“For 30 minutes?” She asks teasingly, eyes rolling. “What, you burn your neck with a cigarette too or what?”

Mickey’s eyes widen, moving his head quickly to see the quickly forming bruise on Ian’s neck, laughter building up in his stomach.

“You think this is funny?” Ian asks teasingly, poking at Mickey’s sides

“It’s a little funny.” Mickey says softly, hand smoothing over the rumpled material of Ian’s shirts.

“come on guys, Kev and V closed the bar for the night, we’re gonna do a couple rounds of poker.” She said, ushering them over to a big round table, stepping around Frank who’s passed out on the floor to no one's surprise. 

“Ain't going easy on you this time.” Mickey says teasingly, singling Lip out with a grin and Ian stiffens at his side, worried that he may piss Lip off with bringing up last night.

“Bring it, asshole.” Lip says back with a challenging smile.

Mickey looks around briefly as V begins to deal the cards out, seeing all the new faces that have all looked at him so warm and open. That brought him in the second he walked in, he looks over to see the empty cake tray and even though Ian’s gonna be real grumpy about it later, it makes him happy. This room full of wonderful people make him happy. His life back at home with his cat and his sister and Ian make him happy. And Mickey’s finally starting to believe that he has all this, that he gets to keep it and that he deserves it. Mickey deserves it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the epilogue and I just wanna say thank you to the folks that have been reading despite the fic still being a work in progress. It's helped so much to see you guys liking it and without you this fic would most likely not have gotten finished. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Roman


	9. Epilogue

Thursday, December 10th

It’s surprisingly easy when Mickey walks into the studio one day, Ian at his side and explains to Josey and the other producers that once they finish up these last few episodes, he will be done.

And it’s a little bittersweet once the whole thing is official. And it’s not like he had hated his job, it was fun and his fans are so sweet and afterall the job had brought Ian to him. 

He also knew that Ian wouldn’t be able to do it with him another season even if he did continue with it. Because Ian graduates in the spring and he’s got his own dreams that the show set him up for, and the directors of the show of course loved Ian from the start, (the man was too charming for his own good.) so they agreed to take Ian on as an apprentice while he worked in the offices, learning the basics.

Mickey couldn’t be more proud of him. Seeing how far he’s come, how he pulled himself out of the southside and studied hard to get what he wanted and it was finally happening for him.

And Mickey’s got some plans of his own, fresh set of keys jangling in his pocket as he jogs from the real estate office to the subway. And Mickey’s shaking, he’s not sure if it’s from excitement or the bitter winter winds cutting through the thick fabric of his coat.

The subway ride isn’t all that long but it feels like eternity before he’s at his stop, walking briskly, almost a jog and Mickey’s lungs are burning from the cool air and the fact that Mickey’s most certainly not a runner. But he’s moving as fast as his legs can carry him to Ian’s apartment.

Once he finally climbs the steps and reaches his door he takes a few breaths, tries to steady his pounding heart and seem calm as he pushes the door open. 

He see’s Ian immediately, the most beautiful fucking sight and Mickeys never gonna get used to looking at him. He’s got Bowie resting in his lap, purring loudly across the now silent room, and Ian’s picking her up gently to set her down on the cushions as he rises from the couch. 

They’re just kind of looking at each other, silence filling the room for a minute and Ian looks a little nervous. 

“So?” He says softly.

And Mickey really can’t wait another minute, grin breaking out over his wind bitten cheeks as he reaches into his pocket to pull out the new set of keys. “i got it.”

Ian’s shouting with happiness as soon as the realization sets in and he’s running at Mickey, grabbing him to pull him into a squeezing hug.

Mickey’s hugging him back so tight because he’s so fucking giddy and so is Ian. Ian’s also really fucking warm and Mickey can’t seem to heat up fast enough.

“Mickey,” he says, so fond of the man in front of him. He pulls back, green eyes on blue ones. “you own a bakery now.” And Ian’s grinning so big right along with him.

“S’not a bakery yet, still just a building.”

Ian rolled his eyes playfully. “Will you shut up?” he laughs. “You’re just as excited as I am.”

“Okay, yeah,” he admitted, laugh edging through his words. “I’m a fucking bakery owner now.” he said with a laugh, smacking Ian on the shoulder lightly. “i can’t believe it’s happening.” 

“You deserve it.” Ian says through a smile, hands coming up to cup at Mickey’s cheeks and draw him in for a kiss. Mickey's lips are a little chapped against Ian’s warm ones but it doesn’t seem to bother Ian, he just licks into Mickey's mouth anyway, fingers brushing over his hair to push the beanie off his head into the floor.

“I think this calls for a celebration.” Ian says, mischievous grin on his face that has Mickey shaking his head with a smile.

“What kind of celebration we talking?”

Ian just slaps at Mickey’s ass playfully before walking backwards into his bedroom, his shoulders shimmying on his way and Mickey really is so in love with this dumbass.

“I’d tell you but i wouldn’t want to say it in front of the cat.” Ian says once he reaches the door of his room, feigning seriousness as he makes a side eye at Bowie on the couch.

“Fuck you.” Mickey laughs, shoving Ian passed the threshold of Ian’s door and shutting it behind them.

And they make love, just like they do most nights of the week but every time feels just as good if not better than the last and Mickey knows he’ll never get tired of it.

Especially on nights like this where neither of them can manage to wipe a smile from their face and they can’t stop the giddy laughter and jokes between thrusts and Ian’s fucking tickling him when Mickey shakes through his orgasm, laughter mixed with a choked off moan.

—-  
Thursday, December 17th

They’re moving the last few boxes Mandy has in the apartment out to the moving truck and it really hasn’t quite hit Mickey yet that his sister’s moving out, hasn’t hit him that he’s going to be living by himself for the first time in his life and it sounds more than a little lonely if he’s being honest. Because Mickey’s always gotten so used to having someone there, even if he is staying over at Ian’s more than half the week and some nights Ian’s staying over at Mickey’s too. It’s the principle of it all, he tells himself.

Josephine places the last box into the truck before turning around to Mickey, soft smile on her face. “How are you feeling, bug?” She asks quietly, hand rubbing up and down his covered shoulders with her gloved hands.

“I knew the day was coming but i didn’t think it’d be so soon.” Mickey said honestly, leaning into her touch a little bit. He did that a lot now, found himself being very tactile with people when months before he’d just pretend to put up with it. Ian softened him up quite a bit.

“They have been together over two years.” 

Two years was a pretty long time, long enough to know that you’re ready for something like that. It has Mickey wondering if any sooner than that would be too soon to move in with anyone. And Mickey knows it’s a crazy thought to have, because he hasn't even reached his six month mark with Ian yet. 

“How soon did you move in with Arlow?” He asks, trying to pass it off as a casual question but something in Josephines eyes tells him that she’s not buying it.

“A little over seven months, I think.” Mickey’s lips turn down just a little at her words, nodding his head. He shifts his eyes to look at Ian, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he talks to Eddy and Mandy. “He didn’t say I love you until after 5 months though.” She says softly.

Mickey’s head turns back to look at her and she’s smiling at him, this knowing glance and upturn of lips. “It doesn’t matter if it’s been a month, or a year.” She squeezes at his shoulders. “When you know, you know.” 

\---

Monday, December 22nd

They’re at Ian’s apartment, snow coming down hard over the city outside and Mickey’s got a fresh cup of hot chocolate in his hand. It’s a cozy feeling, a christmas movie playing in the background and the dim room is lit up with the twinkling lights hanging from the christmas tree he and Ian had decorated last week. They spent an hour just trying to put the thing together and the next chasing after Bowie as she knocked the ornaments off the tree and kicked them around the hardwood floors of the apartment..

There was something so new and wonderful about spending the holidays with someone. They had spent Thanksgiving with Eddy and his family, which was a little odd in his opinion but the people were nice and accommodating and they didn’t act a single bit weird when Mickey introduced Ian as his boyfriend. It was nice sitting at a table with Mandy and her now fiance, Eddy, holding hands with Ian under the table. It felt like his family just kept growing and growing.

That night when they got home, bellies full of turkey and pumpkin pie Ian had called Fiona. She made them promise that they would come back to Chicago next year for Thanksgiving and Mickey felt his heart swell at it. The fact that he and Ian were making plans a whole year in advance, that Ian really was in this with him for the long haul.

“Come sit.” Ian whined from the couch, soft blanket draped over his lap as he lay strewn out across the cushions, waiting with his arms wide to hold Mickey close to his body.

“Can't cuddle with you and drink my hot chocolate at the same side.” Mickey said, shrugging as if to tell Ian that his hands are tied. 

Ian rose from the couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he made slow strides to Mickey. “That sounds like a real predicament.” Ian nodded, a fake understanding tone. 

Ian reached his hand out for Mickey’s mug and Mickey handed it over with a smile, letting Ian take a long sip of the sweet liquid. 

“Y’know, now that Mandy’s gone,” Mickey started slowly, eyes trained on the mug in Ian’s hand. “I’ve got a lot of extra space for one more.” He said, hand moving to grab the mug again and bring it back to his own lips.

He’s been trying to find a way to say it for days now, waiting for just the right moment to ask but Mickey had gotten too nervous every time. Always talking himself out of it, scared that he might be moving too fast.

“I was really starting to get attached to her.” Ian said with a small laugh, something a little forced. Mickey finally brings his head up to look at Ian now and he’s looking way too solemn. Because of course Mickey would have to spell it out for him. 

“Wasn’t talking about the cat, she’s kind of a given though.” Mickey said with a smile, finally getting his words out.

A smile is breaking across Ian’s face and he’s kissing Mickey, because he’s always kissing Mickey when he’s excited, when words can't explain how he’s feeling quite so well he just kisses Mickey.

Mickey takes this kiss as a yes.

Ian’s lips are moving down Mickey’s neck slowly, pressing him into the counter. “I was gonna ask you.” He hears Ian say against his neck, soft little pecks of kisses before he pulls back to kiss at Mickey’s forehead. “But maybe you should move in with me?” Ian asks hopefully.

Mickey tilts his head with a confused smile. “I just thought, since i have the bigger apartment-”

Ian’s nodding his head. “Yeah it’s a good point, but I was thinking,” Ian’s hands were rubbing softly up and down Mickey’s sides in that distracting way he does. “You pay rent that’s like double what i pay here,” 

“I don't mind paying for the rent.” Mickey said quickly.

“I know, but maybe if you moved in here, we can put the extra money into savings, save up for a house or something?” Ian says with a grin and Mickey’s looking at him like he’s just had the best idea in the entire world.

“I love you.” Mickey says happily, knowing. Knowing that Ian’s the one he’s going to share his life with, buy a home with, get married to one day. Live out his fucking dreams with. This is just the start of forever and Mickey couldn’t be more content, or in love, or happy. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone so much for reading. I've had a lot of fun over the past few weeks writing this and i really hope everyone enjoyed it. I have a few ideas for a couple of companion pieces in the future so this may not be that last you see of this sweet couple.
> 
> let me know what you think. kudos and comments are always appreciated
> 
> thanks again!
> 
> roman

**Author's Note:**

> alright so first things first, I'm dyslexic and me and grammar really don't get along but I would just like to thank everyone for stopping by. kudos or comments are very much appreciated.  
> I really hope you guys like the chapter and if you do please let me know, id love to hear your thoughts!


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